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LADY OF THE LAKE. 



A POEMi 



WALTT.R SCOTT, ESQ. 



NEAV-YORK : 
PUBLISHED BY S. KINO, 148, FULTON STREET. 

D. Mitchell, Printer. 

1831. 




THE MOST NOBLE 

JOHN JAMES, 

MARQUIS OF ABERCORN, 

&c. &c. &c. 

THIS POEM IS INSCRIBED 
BY 

THE AUTHOR. 






CONTENTS. 


Page 


CANTO I. 


The Chase . . . 


9 


II. 


The Island . . . 


33 


III. 


The Gathering . . 


59 


IV. 


The Prophecy . . 


81 


V. 


The Combat . . . 


. 105 


VI. 


The Guard-Room . 


. 131 



Notes to Canto \ 157 

CantoW 167 

Cantolll 181 

Canto lY 195 

Canto V 217 

Canto YI 225 




ARGUMENT. 

The Scene of the following Poem is laid 
chiefly in the vicinity of Loch Katrine, in 
the Western Highlands of Perthshire. The 
Time of Action includes Six Days, and 
the transactions of each day occupy a 
Canto. 




THE 



I.ADY OF THE I.AKE. 






CANTO FIRST. 



THE CHASiE. 

HARr of the Noilli ! that mouldering long hast hung 

On the witch elm that shades Saint Fillan's spring, 
And down the fitful breeze thy numbers flung, 

Till envious ivy did around thee cling, 
Muffling with verdant ringlet every string,— 

O minstrc! harp, still must thine accents sleep? 
Mid rustling leaves and fountains murmuring, 

Still must thy sweeter sounds their silence keep, 
T^ot bid a warrior smile nor leach a maid to weep ? 

Not thus in ancient days of Caledon 
Was thy voice mute amid the festal crowd, 

When lay of hopeless love or glory won, 
Aroused the fearful, or subdued the proud. 

At each according pause, was heard aloud 
Thine ardent symphony subUme and high, 




10 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto I. 

Fair dainee and crested chiefs attention bow'd : 
For still the burden of thy Minstrelsy 

Was knighthood's dauntless deed, and beauty's 
matchless eye. 

O wake once more ! how rude soe'er the hand 

That ventures o'er thy magic maze fo Btray ; 
O wake once more ! though scarce my skill command 

Some feeble echoing of thine earlier lay ; 
Though harsh and faint, and soon to die away, 

And all unworthy of thy nobler strain, 
Yet if one heart throb higher at its sway, 

The wizard note has not been touched in vain. 
Then silent be no more I Enchantress wake again ; 




THE CHASE. 



The stag at eve had drunk his filJ, 

Where danced the moon on Monan's rill, 

And deep his midnight lair had made, 

In lone Glenarlnej''s hazel thade j 

But, when the sun his beacon red 

Had kindled on Benvoirlich'shead, 

The deep-mouthed blood-hound's heavy bay 

Resounded up the rocky way, 

And faint, from further dis ance borne, 

Were heard the clanging hoof and horu. 

II. 
As chief who hears liis warder call, 
«' To arms ! the foe men storm the wail," 
The antler'd monarch of the waste 
Sprung from his heathery couch in haste. 
But ere his fleet career he took, 
The dew-drops from his flanks he shook ; 
Like crested leader proud and high, 
Tossed his beamed frontlet to the sky ; 
A moment gazed adown the dale, 
A moment snufted the tainted gale, 
A moment listened to the cry, 
That thickened as the chase drew nigh 5 
Then as the headmost foes appeared, 
With one brave bound the copse he cleared, 
And, stietching forward, free and far, 
•Sought the wild heaths of Uam-Var. 



LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto 1, 

in. 

Yelled on the view the opening pack, 
Rock, glen, and cavern paid them back ; 
To many a mingled sound at once, 
Tlie awakened mountain gave response. 
An hundred dogs bayed deep and strong, 
Clattered an hundred steeds along, 
Their peal the merry horns rung out, 
An hundred voices joined the shout ; 
With hark and whoop, and wild halloo, 
No rest Benvoiriich's echoes knew. 
Far from the tumult fled the roe, 
Close in her covert cowered the doe, 
The falcon, from her cairn on high. 
Cast on the rout a wondering/eye, 
Till far beyond her piercing ken 
The hurricane had swept the glen. 
Faint, and more faint, its failing din 
Returned from cavern, chff, and linn, 
And silence settled, wide and still, 
On the lone wood and mighty hill. 

IV. 

Less loud the sounds of sylvan war 
Disturbed the heights of UamVar, 
And roused the cavern, where 'tis told 
A giant made his den of old ; 
For ere that steep ascent was won, 
High in his pathway hung the sun, 
And many a gallant, stayed per force, 
Was fain to breathe his faltering horse ; 
And of the trackers of the deer 
Scarce half the lessening pack was near ; 
So shrewdly on the mountain side, 
Had the bold burst their metal tried 

V. 

The noble stag was pausing now, 
Upon the mountain's southern brow, 



CaMtoI. TMli (JHASK. 

Where broad extended, far beneath, 
The varied realms of fair Monteith. 
With anxious eye he wandered o'er 
Mountain and meadow, moss and moor. 
And pondered refuge from his toil. 
By far Lochard or Aberfoyle . 
But neaier was tlie copse wood gray. 
That waved and wept on Loch-Achray, 
And mingleil with the pine-trees blue 
On the bold cliffs of Benvenue. 
Fresh vigour with the hope returned, 
With flying foot the heath he spurned, 
Held westward with unwearied race, 
And left behind the panting chase. 

VI. 
'Twere long to tell what steeds gave o'er, 
As swept the hunt ibrougli Cambus moor ; 
What reins were tightened in despair, 
When rose Benledi's bridge in air ; 
Who flagged upon Bochastle's heatli. 
Who shunned to stem the flooded Teith,— 
For twice, that day, from shore to shore. 
The gallant stag swam stoutly o'er. 
Few were the stragglers, following far, 
That reached the Lake of Vennachar, 
And when the Biigg of Turk was won, 
The headmost horseman rode alone. 

vn. 

Alone, but with unbated zeal, 

That horseman pl'ed the scourge atid steel ; 

For jaded now, and spent with toil ; 

Embossed with foam, and dark with soil, 

While every gasp with sobs he drew. 

The labouring stag strained full in view. 

Two dogs of black Saint Hubert's breed, 

Unmatched for courage, breath and speed, 

Fast on his flying traces came, 

And sll but won U'.at detpemia gsnic , 



]4 LADT OF THE LAKE. Canlo I. 

For, scarce a spear's length from his haunch, 

Vindictive toiled the bloodhounds staunch ; 

Kor nearer might the dogs attain, 

Nor fuither might the quarry strain. 

Thus up the margin of the lake, 

Between the precipice and bralie, 

O'er stock and rock their race they take. 

viir. 

The hunter marked that mountain high, 
Tlie lone lake's western boundary, 
And deemed the stag must turn to bay, 
Where that huge rampart barred the way ; 
Already glorying in the prize, 
Measured his antlers with his eyes ; 
For t.ie death wound, and death-halloo, 
Mustered his breath, his whinyard drew j 
But, thundering as he came prepared, 
With ready arm and weapon bared, 
The wily <juarry shunned the shock , 
And turned him from the opposing rock ; 
Then, dashing down a darksome glen, 
Soon lost to hound and hunter's ken, 
In the deep Trosach's wildest nook 
His solitary refuge took. 
There while, close couched, the thicket shed 
Cold dews and wild flowers on his head, 
He heard the baffled dogs in vain 
Rave thioughthe hollow pass amain. 
Chiding the rocks that yelled again. 

IX. 
Close on the hounds the hunter came, 
To cheer them ou the vanished game ; 
But stumbling m the rugged dell, 
The gallant horse exhausted fell. 
The impatient rider strove in vam 
To rouse him with the spur and rein. 
For the good steed, his labours o'er, 
StJ-«tcl]ed his stiff limbs to ri^-e no more : 



Canlol. TII3 CHA9S. 15 

Then, touched with pity and remorse, 
He sorrowed o'er the expiring liorse. 
" I little thought, when first thy rein 
I slacked upoQ the banks of Seine, 
That highland eagle e'er should feed 
On thy fleet limbs, my matchless steed ! 
Wo worth the chase, wo worlh the day, 
That costs thy life, my gaUant gray I" 

X. 
Then through the dell his horn resounds, 
From vain pursuit to call the hounds. 
Back Umped, with slow and crippled pace 
The sulky leaders of the chase ; 
Close to their master's side they pressed, 
With drooping tail and humbled crest ; 
But still the dingle"s hollow throat 
Prolonged the swelling bugle note. 
The owlets started from their dream, 
The eagles answere-i witli their scream, 
Round and around the sounds were cast 
Till echo seemed an answering blast ; 
And on the hunter hied his pace, 
To join some comrades of the chase ; 
Yet often paused, so strange thd road, 
So wondrous were the scenes it show'd. 

XI. 

The western waves of ebbing day 
Rolled o'er the glen their level way ; 
Each purple peak, each flinty spire, 
Was bathed in floods of living fire. 
But not a setting beam could glow 
Within the dark ravines below, 
Where twin'd the path in shadow Ijid, 
Round many a rocky pyramid, 
Shooting abruptly from the dell 
Its thunder splintered pinnacle 5 



3S LADY OF- TUK LAKE. Canto I. 

Round many an insulated mass, 
The native bulwarks of the pass, 
Huge as the tower which builders vain 
Presumptuous piled on Shinar's plain. 
Their rocky summits, split and rent. 
Formed turret, dome, or battlement, 
Or sf emecl fantastically set 
With cupola or minaret, 
Wild crests as pagod ever decked, 
Or mosque of eastern architect. 
Nor were these earth-born castles bare, 
Nor lacked they many a banner fair ; 
For, from their shivered brows displayed, 
Far o'erthe unfathomable glade, 
All twinhling with the dew drop sheen, 
The brier-rose fell in streamers green, 
And creeping shrubs of thousand dies. 
Waved in the west-wind's summer sighs. 

XII. 

Boon nature scattered, free and wild, 
Each plant or flower, the mountain's child ; 
Here eglantine embalmed the air, 
Hawthorn and hazel mingled there ; 
The primrose pale, and violet flower, 
Found in each cleft a narrow bower ; 
Fox-glove and night-shade, side by side, 
Emblems of punishment and pride, 
Grouped their dark hues with every stain, 
The weather-beaten crags retain ; 
With boughs that quaked at every breath, 
Gray birch ard aspin wept l-eneath ; 
Aloft, the ash and warrior oak 
Cast anchor in the rifted rock •, 
And , higher yet, the pine-tree hung 
His shattered trunk, and frequent flung, 



Canlo I. THE CHASE. 

Where seemed the clifis to meet on high, 
His boughs athwart the narrowed sky, 
Highest ofallj where while peaks glanced, 
Where glistening streamers waved and danced, 
The wanderer's eye could barely view 
The summer heaven's delicious blue ; 
So wondrous wild, tlie whole might seem 
The scenery of a fairy dream. 

xni. 

Onward, amid the copse 'gan peep 
A narrow hilet still and deep, 
Affording scarce such breadth of brim, 
As served tlie wild-duck's brood to swim : 
Lost for a space, through thickets veering, 
But broader when again appearing, 
Tall rocks and tufted knolls their face 
Could on the dark-blue mirror trace j 
And further as the hunter strayed, 
Still broader sweep its channels made. 
The shaggy mounds no longer stood, 
Emerging from entangled wood. 
But, wave-encircled seemed to float. 
Like castle girdled with its moat ;. 
Yet broader floods extending still, 
Divide them from their parent hill. 
Till each, retiruig, claims to be 
An islet in an inland sea. 

XIV. 
And now, to issue from the glen, 
No pathway meets the wanderer's ken, 
Unless he climb, with footing nice, 
A far projecting precipice. 
The broom's tough roots his ladder made, 
Tho hazel saplings lent their aid ; 
And thus an airy point he won, 
Where, gleaming with the setting sun, 



IS LADY OF THE LAKE, Canto L 

One burnlsh'd sheet of living gold, 
Loch-Katrine lay beneath him rolled, 
In all her length far winding lay, 
With promontory, creek, and bay, 
And islands that, empurpled bright, 
Floated amid the livelier light ; 
And mountains, that like giants stand 
To sentinel enchanted land. 
High on the south , huge Benvenuo 
Down to the lake in masses threw 
Crags, knolls, and mounds, confusedly hurled, 
The fragments of an earlier world j 
A wildering forest feathered o'er 
His ruined sides and summit hoar, 
While on the north, through middle air, 
Ben-an heaved high his forehead bare. 

XV. 
From the steep promontory gazed 
The stranger, raptmed and amazed. 
And, " What a scene were here,'' he cried, 
«' For princely pomp or churchman's pride. 
On this bold brow, a lordly tower ; 
In that soft vale, a lady's bower j 
On yonder meadow, far away, 
The turrets of a cloister gray j 
How blithely might the bugle horn 
Chide, on the lake, the lingering morn ? 
How sweet, at eve, the lover's lute 
Chime, when the groves were still and mute. 
And, when the midnight moon did lave 
Her forehead in the silver wave. 
How solemn on the ear would come 
The holy matin's distant hum. 
While the deep peal's commanding tone 
Should wake, in yonder islet lone, 



Canto I. THR CHASE. 

A sainttd lienuit from his cell, 
To drop a bead wJtli every hnell — 
And bugle, !nte, and bell, and all, \ 
Should each bewildered stranger call 
To friendly feast, aud lighted hall. 

XVI. 
" Blithe were it then to wander here '. 
But now,— beshrew yon nimble deer, — 
Like thai same herniil's, thin and spare, 
The copse must give my evening fare : 
Some mo>sy bank my coucli must be. 
Some rustling oak my canopy. 
Yet pass we that ;— the war and chase 
Give little choice ofiesting place ; — 
A summer night in greenwood spent. 
Were but to-mon-ow's merriment ;— 
But hosts may in these wilds abound, 
Such as are better mi:sed than <'<.iind ; 
To meet wilh highland plunderers here 
Were worse than loss of steed or deer. 
I am r.lone ;— i- y bugle strain 
May call some straggler of the t/ain ; 
Or fall the worst that may betide, 
Ere now this falchion has been tried." 

XVII. 

But scarce again hts horn he wound, 
When lo I forth starting at the sound, 
From underneath an aged oak, 
That slanted from the islet rock, 
A Damsel guiderof its way, 
A little skill* shot to lire bay, 
That round the promontory steep 
Led its deep line fn graceful sweep, 
Eddying, in almost viewless wave, 
The weeping willow twig lolave, 

B 



LADY OF THE LARK. Canto T, 

And kiss, with whispering sound and slow, 

The beach of pebbles bright as snow. 

The boat had touched the silver strand, 

Just as the hunter Left hig stand, 

And stood concealed amid the brafea 

To view this Lady of the Lake. 

The maiden paused, as if again 

She thought to catch the di-tant strain. 

Whh head up-raised, and look intent, 

And eye and ear attentive bent, 

And locks flung back, and lips apart, 

Like monument of Grecian art. 

In listening mood she seemed to stand, 

The guardian Naiad of the strand. 

And ne'er did Grecian chisel trace 

A Nymph, a Naiad, or a Grace, 

Of finer form or lovelier face ! 

What though the sun, with ardentfrown, 

Had slightly tinged her cheek with brown, — 

The cpo'tive toil, which, short and light, 

Had died herg'owinghue so bright, 

Served too in hastier swell to show 

Short glimpses of abreast of snow ; 

What though no rule of courtly grace 

To measured mood had trained her pace, — 

A foot ionre light, a step more true. 

Ne'er from the heath fluwer dashed the dew ; 

E'en the slight hare- bell raised its head, 

Elastic from her airy tread ; 

What thnuili upon her speech there hung 

The accents of the mountain tongue,— 

Those silver sounds, so soft, so dear, 

The lietenc. held his breath to hear. 

XIX. 
A chieftain's daughter seemed the maid, 
Her satin snor d, her silken plaid, 
II L r goMen breach, such birth betrayed. 



tJantsI. THE CHASE. 9i 

And seldom was a snood amtd 
SucJi wild luxuriant ringlets hid. 
Whose glossy black to shame might bring 
The plumnge of the raven's wing ; 
And seldom o'er a breast so fair 
Mant'eJ a plaid with modest en re ; 
And never broach the folds combirei 
Above ? heart more good and kind. 
Her kindness and her wo;lh to spy, 
You need but gaze on Ellen's eye ; 
Kot Kitiine in her mirror blue, 
Gives hack the shngay buiks more true, 
1 hm every (rcelKirn glance confessed 
The cuileless movements of her bieast, 
Whether joy danced in her dark eye. 
Of wo or pity claimed a si^I), 
Or filial love was glowing there, 
Or meek dev(.tioii pouied a prayer, 
Or ta!e of injury called forth 
The indignant spirit of the north, 
One only passion, unrevealed, 
With maiden p:ide the maid concealed, 
Tet not less parely felt the flame ;— 
O need I tell thai passion's name 1 

XX. 

Impatient of the silent horn, 

Now on the gale her voice was borne : — 

''Father !" she cried; the rocks around 

Loved to prolong the gentle sound. 

A while she paused, no answer came, — 

•* Malcolm, was thine the blast .'" ( The nam* 

Less resolutely "♦I'^red fell, 

The echoes could not catch the swell. 

« A itranger, I," the Huntsman said, 

Advaacing from th« hazel shade. 

e2 



22 LADY OP THE LAKE. Canto I. 

The maid alarmed, with hasty oar, 
Pushed her light shallop from the shore ; 
And when a space was gained between, 
Closer she drew her bosom's screen j 
(So forth the startled swan would swing, 
So turn to prune his ruffled wing.) 
Then pale, though fluttered and amazed, 
She paused, and on the stranger gazed. 
Not his the form, nor his the eye, 
That youthful maidens wont to fly, 

XXI. 

On his bold visage, middle age 

Had slightly pressed its signet sage, 

Yet had nor quenched the open truth, 

And fiery vehemence of youth ; 

Forward and frolic glee was there, 

The will to do, the soul to dare. 

The sparkling glance, soon blown to fire. 

Of hasty love, or headlong he. 

His limbs were cast in manly mould, 

For hardy sports, or contest bold ; * 

And though in peaceful garb arrayed, 

And weaponless, except his bla.de, 

His stately mien as well implied 

A hig'i-born heart, a martial pride, 

As if a baron's crest he wore, 

And sheathed in armour trod the shore. 

Slighting the petty netd lie showed, 

He told of his benighted road. 

His ready speech flowed fair and free, 

In phrase of gentlest courtesy, 

Yet Seemed that tone, and gesture bland, 

La^ss used to su6 than to command. 

xxn. 

A whils the maid the stranger eyed. 
And. reasautfiJ, at la«t replied, 



Ganto I. THE CHASE. 23 

That higWand halls were open still 
To wildeied wanderers of the hill. 
« Nor think you unexpected come 
To yon lone isle, our desert home : 
Before the heath had lost the dew, 
Thi3 raorn a couch was pulled for yftu ; 
On yonder mountain's purple head 
Have ptarmigan and heath-cock bled, 
And our broad ncli?h-'ve swept the mere, 
To furnish forth your evening cheer." 
" Now, by the rood, my lovely maid, 
Your courtesy has erred," he said ; 
" No right have I to claim, misplaced, 
The welcome of expected guest. 
A wanderer here, by fortune tost, 
Uly way, my friend?, my courser lest, 
I ne'er before, believe me, fair, 
Have ever drawn your mountain air,"! 
Till on this lake's romantic strand, 
I found a fay in fairy land." 
«' I will believe," the maid replied, 
As her light skiff approached the side, 
•<I will believe, that ne'er before 
Your foot has trod Loch Katrine's shore, 
But yet, as far as yesternight, 
Old Allan-bane foretold your plight,— 
A gray-haired sire, whose eye intent 
Was on the visioned future bent. 
He saw your steed, a dappled gray, 
Lie dead beneath the birchen way ; 
Painted exact your form and mien, 
Your hunting suit of Lincohi green, 
That tasseird horn so gaily gilt, 
That falchion's crooked blade and hilt, 
That crip with heron's pUunage trim, 
And yon iwo hormda so dark and gtm^ 



34 LADT OF THE LAKE. Canto I, 

He bade that all should ready be, 
To grace a guest of fair degree j 
But light I held his prophecy, 
And deemed it was my father's horn, 
Whose echoes o'er the lake were boarne." 

XXIV. 
The stranger smiled :— " Since to your home, 
A destined errant knight I come, 
Announced by prophet sooth and old, 
Doomed, doubtless, for achievement bold, 
I'll light'.y front each high emprize, 
For one ki;id gl ince of those brighleyea j 
Pe;mit me, first, the task to guide 
Your faiiy fiigate o'er the tide." 
The nnid, with smile suppressed and sly, 
The toil unwonted saw him try j 
For seldom, sure, if e'er before, 
His noble hand had grasped an oar: 
Yet with m:iin strength his strokes he drew, 
And o'er the lake the sha'lop flew ; 
With heads erect, and whimpering cry. 
The hounds behind their passage ply. 
Nor frequsiit does the bright oar break 
The darkening mirror of the lake. 
Until the rocky isle they reach, 
And moor theu- shallop on the beach. 

XXV. 

The stranger viewed the shore around ; 
'Twas all so close with copse-weod bound, 
Nor track nor pathway might declare 
That human foot fretjuented tliere. 
Until the mountain-maiden showed 
A clambering unsuspected road, 
That winded through the tangled aere6n>. J 
And opened on a narrow gceeuj 



Canto I. THE CHASE. 

Where weeping bircli and willow round 
With their long fibres swept the ground ; 
Here, for retreat in dangerous hour, 
Some chief had framed a rustic bower. 

XXVI. 
It was a lodge of ample size, 
But strange of structure and device; 
Of such materials, as around 
The workman's hand had readiest found. 
Lopped of their boughs, their hoar trunks bared, 
And by the hatchet rudely squared, 
To give the walls tfieir destined height, 
The slurdy oak and ash unite ; 
While moss and clay and leaves combined 
To fence each crevice from the wind. 
The lighter pine trees, over-head 
Their slender length for rafters spread ; 
And withered heath and rushes dry 
Supplied a russet canopy. 
Due westward, fronting to the green, 
A rual portico was seen, 
Aloft on native pillars borne, 
Of mountain fir with bark unshorn, 
Where Ellen's hand had taught to twine 
The ivy and Idtean vine, 
Ttie clematis, the favoured flower, 
Which boasts the name of virgin bower; 
And every hardy plant could bear 
Loch Katrine's keen and searching ^ir. 
An instant in this porch she staid, 
And gaily to the stranger said, 
" On heaven and on thy lady call, 
And enter the enchanted hall." 

xxvrr. 

" My hope, my heaven, my trust must be, 
My gentle guide, in following ihee."— 



LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto 1. 

He crossed the threshhold— and a clang 
Of angry steel that instant rang. 
To his bold brow his spirit rushed ; 
But soon for vain alarm he blushed, 
When on the floor he saw displayed, 
Cause of the din, a naked blade 
Dropped from the sheath, that careless ilwng, 
Upon a stag's huge antlers swung ; 
For all around, the walls to grace, 
Hung trophies of the fight or chase : 
A ta: get there, a bugle here, 
A battle axe, a hunting spear. 
And broad-swords, bows, and arrows store, 
Wi'h the tusked trophies of the boar. 
Here grins the wolf as when he died j 
And there the wild-cat's brindled hide 
The frontlet of the elk adorns, 
Or mantles o'er the bison's horns : 
Pennons and flags defaced and stained, 
That blackening streaks of blood retained, 
And deer-skins, dappled, dun, and while, 
With otter's fur and seal's unite. 
In rude and uncouth tapestry all 
To garnish forth the sylvan hall. 

xxvni. 

The wondering stranger round him gazed ; 

And next the fallen weapon raised ; 

Few were the arms whose sinewy strength 

Sufficed to stretch it forth at length. 

And as the brand he poised and swayed, 

*' I never knew but one," he said, 

«' Whose stalwart arm might brook to wield 

A blade like this in battle field." 

She sighed, then smiled, and took (he word; 

*' You see the guardian champion's sword : 



Canto I. THE CHASE. 1 

As light it trembles in his hand, 

As in my grasp a hazel wand. 

My sire's tall form might grace the part 

Of FerraguSj or Ascabart ; 

But in the absent giant's hold 

Are women now, and menials old." 

XXIX. 
The mistress of the mansion came, 
Mature of age, a graceful dame j 
Whose easy step and stately port 
Had well become a princely court, 
To whom, though more than kindred knew, 
Young Ellen gave a mother's due. 
Meet welcome to her guest she made, 
And every courteous rite was paid. 
That hospitality could claim, 
Though all unmasked his birth and name. 
Such (hen the reverence to a guest, 
Thatfelle-t foe might joiu tlie feast, 
And fiom his deadliest foemnn's door 
Unquestioned turn, the banquet o'er. 
At length his rank the stranger names, 
*' The knight of Snowdoun, James Filz- James , 
Lord of a barren heritage, 
Which his brave sires, from age to age. 
By their good swords had held with loil; 
His sire had fallen in such turmoil. 
And he, God wot, was forced to stand 
Oft for his right with blade in hand. 
This morning with Lord Moray's train 
He chased a stalwart stag in vain, 
Outstripped his comrades, missed the deen, 
Lost hia good steed, and wandered here." 

XXX. 
Fain would the knight in turn requue 
Tha name and state of Ellen's eire : 



28 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto L 

Well showed the elder lady's mien, 
That courts and cities she had seen -, 
Ellen, though more her looks displayed 
The simple grace of sylvan maid, 
In speech and gesture, form and face, 
Showed she was come of gentle race; 
'Twere strange in ruder rank to find 
Such looks, such manners, and such mind. 
Each hint the Knight of Snowdoun gave, 
Dame Margaret heard with silence grave j 
Or Ellen, innocently gay. 
Turned all inquiry light away. 
*' Wierd women we ! by dale and down, 
We dwell afar from tower and town. 
We stem the flood, we ride the blast, 
On wandering knights our spells we cast; 
While viewless minstrels touch ll:e string, 
'Tis thus our charmed rh3™es we sing." 
She sung, and still a harp unseen 
Filled up the symphony between. 

XXXI. 

SONG. 

Soldier, rest ! thy warfare o'er, 

Sleep the sleep that knows not breakiaj 
Dream of battled fields no more, 

Daysof danger, nights of waking. 
In our isle's enchanted hall, 

Hands unseen thy couch are strewtag, 
Fairy strains of music fall, 

Every sense in slumber de .ving. 

Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er, 
Dream of fighting fields no more ; 
Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking. 
Mom of loU, nor nights of waking. 



Canto 1. THE CHASE 39 

No rude sound shall reach thine ear, 

Armour's clang, nor war-steed champing, 
Trump nor pibroch summon here 

Musteiingclan, nor squadron tramping. 
Yet the lark's shrill fife may come 

At the daybreak from the fallow. 
And the bittern sound his drum, 

Booming from the sedgy shallow. 
Ruder sounJss^hall none be near, 
Guards nor warders challenge here. 
Here's no war-steed's neigh and champing 
Shouting clans or squadrons stamping. 

XXXIl. 

She paused— then, blushing, led the lay 
To grace the stranger of the day j 
Her mellow notes a while prolong 
Trie cadence of the flowing song. 
Till to her lips in measured frame 
The minstrel verse spontaneous came. 

SONG CONTINUED. 

Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done, 
. While our slumb'rous spells assail ye, 
Dream not with the rising sun. 

Bugles here shall sound reveillie. 
Sleep ! the deer is in his den ; 

Sleep ! thy hounds are by thee lying; 
Sleep ! nor dream in yonder glen. 

How thy gallant steed lay dying. 
Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done, 
Think not of the rising sun, 
For at dawning to assail ye, 
•Here no bugles sound reveillie. 

xxxni. 

The hall was cleared— the stranger's bed 
Was there of mountain heather spread 



LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto 3. 

Where oft a hundred guests had lain, 
And dreamed their forest sports again. 
But vainly did the heath-flower shed 
Its moorland fragrance round his head ; 
Not Ellen's spell had lulled to rest 
The fever of his troubled breast ; 
In broken dreams the image rose 
Of varied perils, pains, and woes, 
His steed now flounders in the brake, 
Now sinks his barge upon the lake ; 
Now leader ol a broken host, 
His standard f Uls, his honor's lost. 
Then,— from my couch may heavenly might. 
Chase that worst phantom of the night !— 
Again returned the scenes of youth, 
Of confident undoubiing truth ; 
Again his soul he interchanged 
With friends whose hearts were long estranged. 
They come, in dim procession led 
The cold, the faithless and the dead ; 
As warm each hand, each brow as gay, 
As if they parted yesterday. 
And doubt distracts him at the view. 
O were his senses false or true ! 
Dreamed he of death, or broken vow, 
Or is it all a vision now I 

XXXIV. 

At length, with Ellen in a grove, 
He seemed to walk and speak of love. 
Slie listened with a blush and sigh, 
His suit was warm, his hopes were high. 
He sought her yielding hand to clasp, 
And a cold gauntlet met his grasp ; 
The phantom's sex was changed and gone. 
Upon its head a helmet shone ; 



CiMtol. THE CHASE. H 

Slowly enlarged to giant size. 
With darkened cheek and threatening eyes, 
The gristly visage, stern and hoar, 
To Ellen still a likeness bore.— 
He woke, and, panting with affright, 
Eecal!ed the vision of the night ; 
The earth's decaying brands were red, 
And deep and dusky lustre shed, 
Half showing, half concealing all 
The uncouth trophies of the hall. 
Mid those the stranger fixed his eye 
Where that huge falchion hung on high. 
And thoughts on thoughts, a countless throng 
Rushed, chasing countless thoughts along, 
Until, the giddy whirl to cure. 
He rose, and sought the moonshine pure- 

XXXV. 

The wild rose, eglantine, and broom, 
Wasted around their rich perfume ; 
The birch-trees wept in fragrant balm ; 
The aspens slept beneath the calm ; 
The silver light, with quivering glance, 
Played on the water's still expanse : 
Wild were the heart whose passion's sway 
Couid rage beneath the sober ray. 
He felt its calm, that warrior guest, 
While thus he communed with his breast; 
" Why is it at each turn I trace 
Somememory ofthat exiled race? 
Can I not mountain-maiden spy, 
Butshemust bear the Douglas' eye? 
Can I not view a highland brand, 
But it must match the Douglas' hand? 
Can I not frame a fevered dream, 
But Btill the Douglas is the theme ?— 
I'll dream no more— by manly mind 
Kot even in ileep k will reaigned. 



33 LADY OP THE LAKE; Canto 1. 

My midnight orison said o'er, 

I'll turn to rest, and dream no more." 

His mill n ight orison he told, 

A prayer with every bead of gold, 

Consigned to heaven his caves and woes, 

And sunk inundisturLed repnsje^-, 

Until the heath cock shrilly crew. 

And mornin<r dawned on Benvenue. 



END OF CANTO FIRST, 



THE 

liADY OF THE LAKE, 

CANTO SECOND. 

THE ISLAND. 



I. 

At mom the black-cock trims Iiis jetty wings, 
'Tis nioniing prompts the linnet's blithest ray ; 

4^1 nature's children feel the matin spring, 
Of life reviving, with reviving day ; 

And while yon little bark gl ides down tlie bay, 
Wafting the stranger on his way again, 

Morn's genial influence roused a minstrel gray, 
And sweetly o'er the lake was heard thy suain, 
Mixed with the sounding harp, O white-haired A!- 
lan-Baue ! 

ir. 

SONG. 
Not faster yonder rower's might 

Flings from their oara the spray, 
Not faster yonder rippling briglit. 
That tracks the shallop's course in light, 

Melts in the lake away. 
Than men from memory erase, 
The benefits of former days ; 
Then, stranger, go, good speed the while, 
Nor think again of the lonely isle . 
High place \x.) thee in royal courts 

High ylace in battle line, 



34 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canlol. 

Good hawk and hound for sylvan sport, 
Where Beauty sees the brave resort, 

The lionored meed be Ihine. 
True be thy sword, thy friend sincere, 
Thy lady constant, kind and dear, 
And lost in love's and friendship's smile, 
Be memory of the lonely isle. 

IIL 
SONG CONTINUED. 
But if beneath yon southern sky, 

A plaided stranger roam, 
Whose drooping crest and stifl ed sigh, 
And sunken cheek, and heavy eye, 

Pine for his highland home-, 
Then, warrior, then be thine to show 
The care that soothes a wanderer's wo j 
Eemeniber then thy harp ere while 
A stranger in the lonely isle. 
Or if on life's unceitain main 

Mishap shall mar thy sail •, 
If faithful, wise, and brave in vain, 
Wo, want, and exile thou sustain 

Beneath the fickle gale ; 
Waste not a sigh on fortune changed. 
On thankless courts, or friends estranged, 
But come where kindred worth shall smile. 
To greet thee in the lonely isle. 

IV. 
As died the sounds upon the tide. 
The shallop reached the main land side, 
And ere his onward way he took. 
The stranger cast a lingering look, 
Where easily his eye might reach 
The harper on the islet beach. 
Reclined against a blighted tiee, 
As wasted, gray, and worn as he. 
To minstrel meditation gives. 
Ills reverend brow was raised to heaven, 



Cflltttoll. THE ISLAND. S5 

As from the rising sun to claim 
A sparkle of inspiring flame ; 
His hand reclined upon the \vire^ 
Seemed watching the awakening fire. 
So still he sate, as those who wait 
Till judgment speak the doom of fate; 
So still, as if no breeze might dare 
To lift one lock of hoary hair ; 
So still, as if life it?elf wete fled, 
In the last sound his harp had spsa. 

V. 
Upon a rock with lichens wild, 
Beside him Ellen sat and smiled. 
Smiled she toseethe stately drake 
Lead forth his fleet upon the lake, 
While her vexed spaniel, from the beach, 
Bajed at the prize beyond his reach j 
Yet tell me then the miid who knows, 
Why deepened on her cheek the rose?— 
Forsive, forgive, Fidelity! 
Perchance the maiden smiled to see 
Yon parting lini'erer wave adieu, 
And Slop and turn to wave anew ; 
And, lovely Indies, ere your ire 
Condemn the heroine of my lyre, 
Shew me the fair would scoin t" spy 
And prize such conque.-t of her eye ! 

VL 
While yet he loitered on the spot. 
It seemed as Ellen marked him not; 
But when he turned him to the glade, 
One courteous pai ting sign she made . 
And a^er, oft that Knight would say, 
That not when prize of festal day 
Wag dealt him by the brightest fair, 
Who e'er wore jewel in her hair, 
So highly did his bosom swell, 
As at that simple mute farewell. 



5S LADY dF THE LAKE. CanW IL 

Now Witha trustv mountain guide, 
And his dark stag-hounds by hisside, 
He parts— the maid, unconscioirs still, 
Watched him wind slowly round the hill j 
But when his stately form was hid, 
The guardian in her bosom chid— 
" TJiy Malcolm ! vain and selfish maid !" 
'Twas thus upbraiding conscience said, 
'• Not so had Malcolm idly hung 
On the smooth phrase of southern tongue ; 
" Not so had Malcolm strained his eye 
The step of parting fair to spy." — 
" Wake, Allan-Bane,'' aloud she cried, 
To the old minstrel by her side, 
♦' Arouse thee from thy moody dreami 
I'll give thy harp heroic theme, 
And warm thee with a noWe name ; 
Pour forth the glory of the Grrome."— 
Scarce from her lip the woid had rushed, 
When deep the conscious maiden blushed, 
For of his clan, in hall or bower, 
Young Malcolm Graeme was held the flower. 

VII. 

The minstrel waked his harp— three times 
Acrossthe well known martial chimes, 
And thrice their high heroic pride 
In melancholy murmurs died. 

" Vainly thou bidst, O noble maid," 

Clasping his withered hands, he said, 

" Vainly thou bidst me wake the strain, 

Though all unwont to bid in vain. 

Alas I than mine a mightier hand 

Has tuned my harp, my strings has spanned } 

I touch the chords of joy, but low 

And mournful answer notes of wo J 



Canto II. THE ISLAm). 3T 

And th« proud march which victors tread, 
Sinks in the wailing for the dead. — 
O well for me, if mine alone 
That dirge's deep prophetic tone ! 
If, as my tuneful fatlier said, 
This haip, which erst Sair.t Modan swayed, 
Can thus its master's fate foretell, 
Then welcome be the minstrel's knell I" 

VUI. 
« But ah ! dear lady, thus it sighed, 
The eve thy sainted mother died ; 
And such the sounds which, while I strove 
To wake a lay of war or love, 
Came marring a'l the festal mirth, 
Appalling me who gave them birth, 
And, disobedient to my call, 
Wailed loud through Both well's bannered hall, 
Ere Douglases, to ruin driven, 
Were exiled from their native heaven. — . 
Oh! if yet worse mishap and wo 
My master's house must undergo, 
Or aught but weal to Ellen fair, 
Brood in these accents of despair. 
No future bard, sad h:irp ! shall fling 
Triumph or rapture from thy string ; 
One short, one final strain shall flow, 
Fraught wiih unutterable wo. 
Then shivered shall thy fragments lie, 
Thy master cast him down and die." 

IX. 
Soothing she answered him, " Assuage, 
Mine honored friend, the fear.=! of age ; 
All melodies lo thee are known. 
That harp has rung, or pipe has blown, 
In lowland vale, or highland glen, 
From Tweed to Spey— what raa;vel, then, 
3 



3S LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto II. 

At times, unbidden notes should rise, 
Confusedly bound in memory's ties, 
Entangling, as they rush along, 
The war-march with the funeral song.— 
Small ground is now for boding feur ; 
Obscure, but safe, we rest us here. 
My sire, in native virtue great, 
Resigning lordship, lands, and state, 
Not then to fortune more resigned. 
Than yonder oak might give the wind ; 
The graceful foliage storms may reave, 
The noble stem they cannot grieve. 
For me,"— she stopped, and, looking round 
Plucked a blue hare-bell from the ground, 
" For me, whose memory scarce conveys 
An image of more splendid days, 
This little flower, that loves the lea, 
May well my simple emblem be ; 
It drinks heav'n's dews as blithe as rose 
That in the King's own garden grows, 
And when I place it in my hair, 
Allan, a bard is bound to swear 
lie ne'er saw coronet so fair." 
Then playfully the chaplet wild 
She wreathed in her dark locks, and smiled. 

X. 
Her smile, her speech, her winning sway 
Wiled the old harper's mnod away ; 
With such a look as hermits th!ow 
When angels stoop to soothe their wo, 
He gazed till fond regret and pride 
Thrilled to a tear, then thus replied : 
" Loveliest and best I thou little know'st 
The rank, the honors thou hast lost ; 
O might I live to see thee grace, 
In Scotland's coaitj thy birth right place, 



Canton. THE ISLAND. 80 

To see my favourite's step advance, 
The lightest in the ceurlly dance. 
The cause of every gallant's sigh. 
And leading star of every eye. 
And theme of every minstrel's art, 
The Lady of the Bleeding Heart 1"* 
*' Gay dreams are these," the maiden cried 
(Light was her accent, yet she sighed,) 
•' This mossy rock, my friend, to me 
Is worth gay chair and canopy ; 
i\or would my footstep spring more gay 
In. courtly dance than blithe strathspey ; 
Nor half so pleased mine ear incline 
To royal minstrel's lay as ihine : 
/nd then for suitors proud and high, 
To bend before my conqueiing eye, 
Thou, flattering bard, thyself wilt say, 
That grim Sir Roderick owns its sway. 
The Saxon scourge, Clan- Alpine's pride, 
The terror of Loch Lomond's side, 
Would at my suit, thou know'st, delay 
A Leano.v foray— for a day." 

XH. 
The ancient bard his glee repressed : 
" III hast thou chosen thtine for jeit! 
For who, through all this western «ild, 
Named Black Sir Roderick e'er, and smiled ? 
In Holy Rood a kni^hl be ilew , 
I saw, when back the dirL he drew, 
Couriiers give place before the btiide 
Of the undaunted homicide ; 
And since, though outlawed, hath his hand 
Full sternly kept his mountain land. 
Who else dare give,— ah ! wo the day, 
That I such hated truth should say — 
The Douglas, like a stricken deer, 
Disowned by every noble peer, 
* Thft well-known reco^juizanct^ of theDouglni family 



40 LADY or THE LAKE. Canto II. 

Even the rude rsfuge we have here? 
Alas, this vv^ild marauding chief 
Alone might hazard our relief, * 
And now thy maiden charms expand, 
Looks for his guerdon in thy hand ; 
Full soon may dispensation sought, 
To back his suit, from Rome be brought. 
Then, though an exile on the hill, 
Thy father, as the Douglas still. 
Be held in reverence and fear. 
But though to Roderick thou'rt so dear, 
That thou might 'st guide with silken thread. 
Slave of thy will, this chieftain diead ; 
Yet, O loved maid, thy mirth refrain ! 
Thy hand is on a lion's mane." 

XII. 
" Miaslrel," the maid replied, and high 
Her fathei's soul glanced in her eye, ^ 

>■' My debts to Roderick's house I know; 
All that a mother could bestow, 
To Lady Margaret's care I owe, 
Since first an orphan in the wild 
She sorrowed o'er lier sister's child ; 
To her brave chieftain son, from ire 
Of Scotland's king, who shrouds my sire, 
A deeper, holier debt is owed ; 
And, could I pay it with my blood, 
Allan ! Sir Roderick should command 
My blood my life,— but not my hand. 
Rather will Ellen Douglas dwell 
A vf t'ress in Maronmi's cell ; 
Rather th.ough realms beyond the sea, 
Seeking the world's cold charity, 
Where ne'er was spoke a Scottish word, 
And ne'er the name of Douglas heard, 
An outcast pilgrim will she rove, 
Tlian wed tiie man she cannot love. 



Canto II. THE ISLAND. 41 

XIV. 
"Thou shahest, good friend, thy tresses gray- 
That pleading looi<, what can it say, 
But what 1 own?— I gjant him brave, 

But wild as Bracklinn's thundering wave ; 

And generous — save vindictive mood, 

Or jealous trans;)ort chafe his blood; 

I grant him true to fiiendly band, 

As his claymore is to his hand ; 

But O ! that very blade of steel 

More mercy for a fae would feel : 

I grant him liberal, to fling 

Among his clan the wealth they bring. 

When back by lake and glen they wind, 

And m the lowland leave behind, 

Where once some pleasant hamlet stood, 

A mass of ashss slacked with blood. 

The hand, ttiat for my father fought, 

I honour as his daughter ought ; 

But can I clasp it reekmg red. 

From peasants slaughtered in their shed ? 

No ! wildly while his virtues gleam, 

They make his passions darker seem, 
And flush along his spirit high, 

Like lightning oer the iuidnight sky. 
While yet a child,— and children know, 
Instinctive taught, the friend and foe,— 
I shudJered at his brow of gljom, 
His shadowy plaid, and sable plume; 
A maiden grown, I ill could bear 
His haughty mien and lordly air; 
But if thou join'st a suitor's claim, 
In serious mood, to Roderick's name, 
1 thrill with anguish ! or, if e'er 

A Douglas knew the word, with fear. 
To change such odious theme weie 'oeet,— 

Wliot t^iok'it tbou oC our strangar guest f 
3* 



LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto II. 

XV. 
" What think I of him?— wo the while 
That brought such wanderer to our isle I 
Thy father's battle brand of yore 
For Tyneman forged by fairy lore, 
What lime he leagued, no longer foea, 
His Border spears with Hotspur's bows, 
Did, sclf-unscabbarded, foreshow 
The footstep of a secret foe. 
If courtly spy, and harboured here, 
What may we for the Douglas fear? 
What for this island ; desmed of old 
Clan- Alpine's last and surest hold ! 
If neither spy nor foe, I pray 
What yet may jealous Roderick say 1— 
Kay, wave not thy disdainful head ! 
Bethink thee of the discord dread, 
That kindled when at Beltane game 
Thou led'stthe dance with Malcolm Grame ; 
Still, though thy sire tho peace renewed, 
Smoulders in Roderick's breast the feud ; 
Beware !— but hark, what sounds are these? 
My dull ears catch no faltering breeze. 
No weeping birch, nor aspens wake, 
Nor breath is dimpling in the lake ; 
Still is the canna's* hoary beaid— 
Yet, by my minstrel faith, I heard — 
And hark again ! some pipe of war 
Sends the bold pibroch from afar." 

XVI. 

Far up the lengthened lake were spied 
Four darkenii:g specks upon the tide, 
That, slow enlarging on the view, 
Four manned and masted barges grew, 

* Cotton-graK. 



Canto II. THE ISLAND. 43 

And bearing downwards from Glengyle, 
Steered full upon the lonely isle j 
The point of Biianchoil they passed, 
And to the wir.dvvaid as they cast, 
Against the sun ihey gave to sliine, 
The bold Sir Roderick's bannered pine. 
Nearer and nearer ?.s they bear, 
Spears, pikes, anil axes, flash in air. 
Now might you see the tartans brave, 
And p'.aids and plumage dance and wave ; 
Now see the bonnets sink and rise, 
As his tough oar the rower plies ; 
See, flashing at each sturdy stroke. 
The wave ascending into smoke j 
See the proud pipers on the bow, 
And mark the gaudy streamers flow 
Frown iheir loud chanters* down, and sweep 
The furrowed bosom of the deep, 
As rushing through the lake, amain 
They plied the ancient Uigiiland strain. 

XVII. 
Ever, as on they bore, more loud 
And louder rung thepiliroch proud. 
At first the sounds, by distance tame, 
Mellowed along the waters came. 
And, lingering long by cape and bay 
Wailed every harsher note away ; 
Then, bursting bolder on the ear, 
The clan's shrill Gathering they could hear j 
Those thrilling sounds, that call the might 
Of old Clan-Alpine to the fight : 
Thick beat the rapid notes, as when 
The mustering hundred-? shiiike the glen, 
And hurrying at the signal dread, 
The battered earth returns their tread ; 
Then prelude light, of livelier tone. 
Expressed their merry marching on, 
* The drone of the bag-pipe. 



44 LADY OP THE LAKE. Canto n. 

E'er peal of closing battle rose, 
With mingled outcry, shrieks, and blows; 
And niiaiic din cfslroiie and ward, 
As broad-sword upon the target janedj 
And gio iniiig pause , e're yet again, 
Condensed, llie battle yelled amain; 
The rapid ciiarge, tlie rallying shout, 
Retieat bora headlong into loul ; 
And bursts otliiuinpli, to declare 
Clan- Alpine's conquest — all were there. 
Nor ended thus the strain ; but slow, 
Sunk in a moan prolonged and low. 
And changed the conquering clarion swell, 
For wild laxuent o'er those that lell. 
XVIIL 

The war-pipes ceased; but lake and hill 
Were busy with their echoes still, 
And when they slept, a vocal strain 
Bade tlieir hoarse chorus wake again. 
While loud a hundred clansmen raise 
Their voices in iheir chieftain's praise. 
Each boatman, bending to his oar. 
With measured sweep the burthen bore, 
In such wild cadence, as ihe breeze 
Makes through December -s leafless trees. 
The choius liist could Allan know, 
" Rodengh Vich Alpine, ho ! iero !'' 
And near, and neaier as they rowed, 
Distinct the martial ditty flowed. 
XIX. 
BOAT SONG. 
Hail to the chief who in triumph advances 

Honoured and blessed be the ever-green pine ! 
Long may the tree in his banner that glances, 
Flourish, the shelter and grace of our line ! 

Heaven send it h:ippy dew, 

Earth lend it sap anuw, 



Canton. THE ISLAND 45 

Gayly to bourgeon, and broadlj to grow, 
While every highland glen 
Sends her shouts back agen, 
"Rodengh Vich Alpine dhu, lio! ieroe !" 

Ours is no sapling, chance-fown by the fountain, 

Blooming at Beltane, in winter to fade ; 
When the whirlwind lias stripped every leaf on the 

mountain, 
The more shall Clan-AIpine exult in her shade. 

Moored in the rifted rock, 

Proof to the tempest's shock, 
Firmer lie roots him the ruder it blow ; 

M^nteith and Breadalbane, then, 

Echo his praise agen, 
" ftodeiigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe !" 

XX. 

Proudly our pibroch has thrilled in g'en Fiuin, 
And Banochat's groans to our slogan replied ; 
Glen Ross and Ross-dhu, they are smoking in ruin, 
And the best of Loch Lomond lie dead on her side. 
Widow and Saxon maid 
Lon«; shall lament our raid, 
Think of C:an-Aipine with fear and with wo; 
Lennox and Leven-glea 
Shake when they hear agen, 
" Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe !" 

Row vassals, row, for the pride of the highlands ! 

Stretch to your oars, for the ever-green pine ! 
O I that the rose-bud that graces yon islands, 
Were wreathed in a carland around him to twine! 

O that some seedling gem, 

Worthy such noble stem. 
Honoured and blessed in their shadow might grow ! 

Loud should Clan- Alpine then 

Ring from her deepmost glen, 
•* Eoderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe !»» 



46 LADY OP THE LAKE. Carito II. 

XXI. 

With all her joyful female band 
Had Lady Margaret sought the strand, 
Loose on the breeze their tresses flew, 
And high their snowy arms they threw, 
As echuing back with shrill acclaim, 
And chorus wild, the chieftain's name ; 
While, prompt to please, with mother's art, 
The darling passion of his heart, 
The Daaie called Ellen to the strand, 
To greet her kinsman ere he land : 
'• Come, loiterer, come ! a Douglas thou, 
And shun to wreathe a victor's brow?" 
Reluctantly and slow, the maid 
The^unwelcome summoning obeyed. 
And, when a distant bugle rung, 
In the mid-patli aside she sprung :— 
'• List, Allan-bane ! From mainland cast, 
I liear my father's signal blast. 
Be ours," she cried, " the skiff to guide, 
And waft him from the mountain side." 
Then, like a sunbeam, swift and bright, 
She darted to her shallop light. 
And, eagerly while Roderick scanned, 
For her dear form, liis mother's band. 
The islet far behind her lay, 
And she had landed in the bay. 

XXII. 
Some feelings are to mortals given. 
With less of earth in them than heaven ; 
And if there be a human tear 
From passion's dross refined and clear, 
A tear so limpid and so meek, v, 
It would not stain an angel's cheek, 
»Ti3 that which pious fathers shed 
Upon a duteous daughter's head ! 
And as the Douglas to his breast 
His darling Ellen closely pressed. 
Such holy drops her tresses steep'd, 
Though 'twas a hero's eya that weep'd. 



Canto 11. THE ISLAND. 47 

Nor while on Ellen's faltering tongue 
Her filial welcomes crowded hung, 
Marked she, that fear (affection's proof,) 
Still held a graceful youth aloof ; 
No ! not till Douglas named his name, 
Although the youth was Malcolm Graeme. 

XXIII. 
Allan, with wistful look the while. 
Marked Roderick landing on the isle; 
His master piteously he eyed. 
Then gazed upon the chieftain's pride. 
Then dashed, with hasty h;ind, away, 
From his dimmed eye the gathering spray ; 
And Douglas, as his hand he laid 
On RIalcolm's shoulder, kindly said, 
" Canst thou, young friend, no meaning spy 
In my poor follower's glistening eye? 
I'll tell thee:— he recalls the day, 
When in my praise he led the lay 
O'er the aiched gate of Bothwell proud, 
While maiiy a minstrel answered loud, 
When Percy's Norman pennon, won 
In bloody field, before me shone. 
And twice ten knights, the least a name 
As mighty as yon chief may claim, 
Gracing my pomp behind me came. 
Yet, trust me, Malcolm, not so proud 
Was I of all that marshal crowd, 
Though the waned crescent owned my might, 
And in my train trooped lord and knight, 
Though Blanlyre hymned her holiest lays, 
And Bothwell's bards flung back my praise, 
As when this old man's silent tear, 
And this poor maid's affection dear, 
A welcome give more kind and true. 
Than aught my better fortunes knew. 
Forgive, my friend, a father's boast j 
Q! UoutbeggaKiallllost:" 



43 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto II. 

XXIV. 
Delightful praise !— like summer rose, 
That brighter in the dew-drop glows, 
The bashful maiden's cheek appeared, 
For Douglas spoke, and Ma'colm heard. 
The flush of shame-faced joy to hide, 
The hounds, the hawk, her cares divide; 
The loved caresses of the maid 
The dogs with crouch and whimper paid ; 
And, at her whistle, on her hand 
The falcon took his favourite stand. 
Closed his daik wing, relaxed his eye. 
Nor, though unhooded, soughtto fly. 
And trust, whi'e in such gui?e she stood. 
Like fabled Goddess of the Wood, 
That if a father's partial thought 
O'erweighed her worth and beauty aughf, 
Well might the lover's judgment fail, 
To balance with a juster scale ; 
For with each seciet glance he stole, 
The fond enthusiast sent his soul. 

XXV. 
Of stature fair, and slender frame, 
But firmly knit, was Malcolm Graeme. 
The belted plaid and tartan hose 
Did ne'er more graceful limbs disclose y 
His flaxen hair, of sunny hue, 
Curled closely round his bonnet blue ; 
Trained to the chace, his eagle eye 
The ptarmigan in snow could spy ; 
Each pass, by mountain, lake, and heath, 
He knew, through Lennox and Menteith ; 
Vain was the bound of dark-brown doe, 
"When Malcolm bent his sounding bow, 
And scarce that doe, though winged with fear 
Outstripped in speed the mountaineer; 
Bight up Ben Lomond could he press, 
And not a sob his toil confes*. 



Canto II. TOE ISLAND. 4» 

His form accorded with a mind, 
Lively and ardent, fiaiilc and kind ; 
A blilher lieart, till Ellen came, 
Did never love nor sorrow tame; 
It danced as lightsome in his breast. 
As plaj'ed the feather on his crest. 
Yet friends, who nearest knew the youth, 
His scorn of wrong, his zeal for truth, 
And bards, who saw his features bold, 
When kindled by the tales of old, 
Said, were that youth to manhood grown, 
Not long should Roderick Dhu's renown 
Be foremost voiced by mountain fame, 
Eut quail to that of Malcolm Graeme. 

XXVI. 

Now back they wend their watery way , 
And, " O my sire !" did Ellen say, 
" Why urge thy chace so far astray ? 
And why so 1 ite returned ? And why" — 
The rest was in her S[)eaking eye. 
" .My child, the cliace I follow far, 
'Tis mimicry of noble war ; 
And witti that gallant pastime reft 
Weie all of Douglas I have left. 
I met young Malcolm as I strayed 
Far eastward in Glenfinlas' shade 
Nor strayed I safe ; for, all around, 
Hunters and horsemen scoured the ground. 
This yoMth, though still a royal waid, 
Risked life and land to be my guard. 
And through the passes of the wood 
Gu ded my steps, not unpursued ; 
And Roderick shall his welcome make, 
Despite old spleen, for Douglas' sake. 
Then must he seek Stratli Endiick glen, 
r^'or peril aught for meagen."— 
4 



60 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto II. 

XXVII. 
Sir Roderick, who to meet them came, 
Reddened at the sight of Malcolm Grasme, 
Yet, nor in action, word, or eye, 
Failed aught in hospitality. 
In talk and sport they whiled away 
The morning of that summer day ; 
But at high noon a courier light 
Held secret parly with the knight, 
Whose moody aspect soon declared, 
That evil were the news he heard. 
Deep thought seemed toiling in his head j 
Yet WRS the evening banquet made, 
E'er heassemijied round the flame. 
His mother, Douglas, and the Graeme, 
And Ellen too ; then cast around 
His eyes, then fixed them on the ground, 
As studying phrase that might avail 
Best to convey unpleasant tale. 
Long with his dagger's hilt he played, 
Then raised his haughty brow, and said : 

XXVIIL 

" Short be my speech ;— nor time affords, 

Nor my plain temper, glozlng words. 

Kinsman and father, if such name 

Douglas vouchsafe to Roderick's claim, 

Mine honoured mother, Ellen,— why, 

My cousin, turn away thine eye ? 

And Grffirae, in whom I hope to know 

Full soon a noble friend or foe, 

When age shall give thee thy command, 

And leading in thy native land,— 

List all !— The king's vindictive pride 

Boasts to have tamed the Border-side, 

Where chiefs, with hound and hawk who came 

To share theij monarch's sylvan game. 



Canto IL THE ISLAND. 

Themselves In bloody toils were snared, 
And when the banquet they prepared, 
And wide their loyal portals flung, 
O'er their own ga;eway struggling hung. 
Loud cries their blood from Meggafs mead 
From Yarrow braes, and banks of Tweed, 
Where the lone streams of Eitricke glide, 
And from the silver Tev lot's side ; 
The dales, where martial clans did ride. 
Are now oi.e sheep walk waste and wide. 
This tyrant of the Scottish throne, 
So faithless, and so ruthless grown. 

Now hither comes ; his end the same. 
The same pretext of sylvan game. 

What grace for Highland chiefs judge ye, 

By fate of Border chivalry. 

Yet more; amid Glenfinlas' green, 

Douglas, thy stalely form was seen, 

This by especial sure I know ; 

Your council in the strait I thow." — 

XXIX. 

Ellen and Margaiet fearfully 

Sought comfort in each other's eye, 

Then turned their ghastly look, each one, 

This to her sire, that to her son. 

The hasty colour went acd came 

In the bold cheek of Malcolm Grseme ; 

But from his glance, it well appeared, 

'Twas but for Ellen that he feared ; 

While sorrowful, but undismayed. 

The Douglas thus his counsel said : 

«' Brave Roderick, though the tempest roar, 

It may but thunder and pass o'er ; 

Nor will I here remain an hour, 

To draw the lightning on thy bower ; 



52 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto II. 

for well thou know'st, at this gray head 
The royal bolt were fiercest sped. 
For tliee, who, at thy King's command, 
Canst aid him witli a gallant baud, 
Submission, homage, humbled pride, 
Shall turn the monarch's wrath aside. 
Poor remnants of the Bleeding Heart, 
Ellen and I, will seek, apart, 
The refuge of some forest cell ; 
There, like the hunted quarry, dwell, 
Till, on the mountain and the moor, 
The stern pursuit be passed and o'er." — 

XXX. 
" No, by mine honour," Roderick said, 
" So help me heaven, and my good blade '. 
No, never ! Blasted be yon pine. 
My father's ancient crest, and mine, 
If from its shade in danger part 
The lineage of the Bleeding Heart ! 
Hear my blunt speech ; grant me this maid 
To wife, thy counsel to mine aid ; 
To Douglas, leagued with Roderick Dhu, 
Will friends and allies flock enow; 
Like cause of doubr, distrust, and grief. 
Will bind us to each western chief. 
When the loud pipes my bridal tell, 
The Links of Forth shall hear the knell, 
The guard shall start in Stirling's porch ; 
And when I light the nuptial torch, 
A thousand villages in flames. 
Shall scare the slumber of King James .' 
— Nay, Ellen, blench not thus away. 
And, mother, cea«e these signs, \ pray ; 
I meant not all my heat might say. 
Small need of inroad, or of fight. 
When the sage Douglas may unite 



Canto II. THE ISLAxND. 52 

Each mountain clan in friendly band, 
To guard tlie passes of their land, 
Till the foiled King, from pathless glen, 
Shall bootless tarn him home ageu." — 

XXXI. 
There are who have, at midnight hour, 
In slumber scaled a dizzy tower, 
And, on tlie verge that beetled o'er 
The ocean-tide's incessant roar. 
Dreamed calmly out iheir dangerous dream, 
Till wakened by the morning beam ; 
When, dazzled by the eastern glow, 
Such startler cast his glance below, 
And saw unmeasured depth mound, 
And heard unintermilted sound. 
And thought the battled fence so frail, 
It waved like cobweb in the gale ; 
Amid his senses' giddy wheel, 
Did he not desperate impulse feel. 
Headlong to plunge himself below, 
And meet the worst his fears foreshow ? — 
Thus, Ellen, dizzy and astound. 
As sudden ruin yawned around. 
By crossing terrors wildly tossed, 
Still for the Douglas learingmost, 
Could scarce the desperate thought withstand 
To buy his safety with her hand. 

XXXII. 
Such purpose diead could ^lalcolm spy 
In Ellen's quivering lip and eye. 
And eager rose to speak— but e'er 
His tongue could hurry forth his fear, 
Had Douglas marked the hectic strife, 
Wheie death seemed combating with life, 
For to her cheek, in feverish flood, 
One instant rushed Ihe throbbing blood, 
4* 



54 LADY OP THE LAKE. Canto II. 

Then ebbing back, with sudden sway, 
Left its domaia as wan as clay. 
" Roderick, enough ! enough I'' he cried, 
•' My daughter cannot be thy bride ; 
Not that tlie blush of wooer dear, 
Nor paleness that of maiden fear. 
It may not be— forgive her, chief. 
Kor hazard aught for our re) ef. 
Against liis sovereign, Douglas ne'er 
Will level a rebellious spear; 
'TwasI that taugbt his youthful hand 
To rein a sleed and wield a brand. 
I see him yet, the princely boy ! 
Not Ellen more my pride and joy ; 
I love him still, desjiile my wrongs, 
By liasiy wrath, and slanderous tongues. 
O seek the grace you well may find. 
Without a cause to mine combined.'' — 
Twice through the hall the Chieftain strode ; 
The waving of his tartans broad, 
And darkened brow, where wounded pride 
With ire and disappointment vied, 
Seemed, by the torch's gloomy light, 
Like the ill Demon of the night. 
Stooping liis pinions' shadowy sway 
Upon the niglited pilgrim's way : 
But, unrequited love ! thy <lai t 
Plunged deepest its envenomed smart ; 
And Roderick, with tliine anguish stung, 
At length the hand of Douglas wrung. 
While eyes, that mocked at tears before. 
With bitter drops weie running o'er. 
The death pangs of long cherished hop» 
Scarce in that ami<Ie breast had sope, 
But, struggling with his spirit proud, 
Convulsive heaved it« checkered shroud j 



CanloII. THE ISLAND. 55 

While every sob— so mute were all — 
Was lieaid distinctly through the hall. 
The son's despair, the niotlier's look, 
111 might the gentle Ellen brook ; 
She rose, and to her side there came, 
To aid her parting steps, the Graeme. 

XXXIV. 

Then Roderick from the Douglas broke— 
As flashes flame th.ough sable smoke, 
Kindling its wreathes, long, dark, and low, 
To one broad blaze of ruddy gl ow, 
Burst, in fierce jealousy, to air — 
With stalwart grasp his hand he laid 
On Malcolm's breast and belted plaid : 
" Back, beaidless boy !" he sternly said, 
" Back, minion ! hoid'st thou thus at nought 
The lesson I so lately taught? 
This roof, the Douglas, and that maid, 
Thank thou for punishment delayed." 
Eager as greyhound on his game, 
Fiercely with R,oderick grappled Grteme. 
" Perish my name, if aught afford 
Its chieftain's salety, save his sword!" 
Thus as thev strove, their desperate hand 
Griped to the dagger or the brand, 
And death had been— But Douglas rose, 
And thrust between the struggling foea 
His giant strength ;— " Chieftains, forego, 
I hold the first who strikes my foe. — 
Madmen, forbear your frantic jar ! 
W'liai ! is the Douglas fallen so far, 
His daughter's hand is deemed the spoil 
01 such difehonourtible broil l'^- 
Sullen and slowly, they unclasp, 
As struck with shame, their desperate grasp, 
And each upon his rival glared, 
With foot advanced, and blade half bared. 



56 LADY OF THE LAKE. CantoII. 

XXXV. 

Ere yet ihe brands aloft were flung, 
Margaret on Roderick's mantle hang, 
And Malcolm lieard his Ellen's scream, 
As faltered through terrific dream. 
Tlien Roderick plunged in sheath his sword, 
AnJ veiled his wrath in scornful word, 
" Rest safe till morning ; pity 'tweie 
Such cheek should feel the midnight air ! 
Then mayestthou to James Stewart tell, 
Rodericlc will keep the lake and fell, 
Nor lackey, with his free-born clan, 
The pageant pomp of earthly man. 
More would he of Clan-Alpine know, 
Thou canst our strength and passes show. — 
MalisC; what ho!"— his henchman came ; 
" Give our safe conduct to the Grajine." 
Young Malcolm answered, calm and bold, 
" Fear nothing for thy favourite hold. 
The spot, an angel deigned to grace. 
Is blessed, though robbers hauut the place ; 
Thy churlish courtesy for those 
Reserve, who fear to be thy foes 
As safe to me the mountain way 
At nr.idnight as in blaze of day. 
Though, with his boldest at his back 
Even Roderick Dhu beset the track. — 
Brave Douglas,— lovely Ellen,— Nay, 
Nought hereof parting will I say. 
Earth does not hold a lonesome glen. 
So secret, but we meet agen. — 
Chieftaim ! we too shall find an hour," 
He said, and lelt the sylvan bower. 

XXXVI. 

Old Allan followed to the strand, 
(Such was the Douglas's command, 



Canto II. THE ISLAND. 57 

And anxious told, how, on the morn, 
The stern Sir Roderick deep had sworn, 
Tlie Fiery Cross should circle o'er 
])ale,g'en and valley, down, and moor. 
Much were the peril to the Graeme, 
From those who to the signal came ; 
Far up the lake 'twere safest land 
Himself would row him to the strand. 
He gave his counsel to the wind , 
"While Malcolm did, uniieeding, bind, 
Round diik and pouch and broad-sword rolled, 
His ample plaid in tightened fold, 
And stripped his limbs to such array, 
As best might suit the watery way. 

XXXVII. 

Then spoke abrupt •, " Farewell to thee, 

Pattern of old fidelity!'' 

The minstrel's hand he kindly pressed, — 

" O could I point a place of re<t ! 

My sovereign holds in ward my land. 
My uncle leads my vassal band ; 

To tame his foes, his friends to aid, 

Poor Malcolm has but heart and blade. 

Yet, if there be one faithful Graeme, 
Who loves the chieftain of his name, 
Not long shall honoured Douglas dwell, 

Like hunted stag, in mountain cell ; 

Nor, ere yon pride-swollen robber dare, — 

I may not give the rest to air !— 

Tell Roderick Dhu, I owed him nought, 

Not the poor service of a boat. 

To waft me to yon mountain side." — 

Then plunged he in the flashing tide. 

Bold o'er the flood his head he bore, 

And stoutly steered him from the shore ; 



58 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto II. 

And Allan strained his anxious eye^ 
Far mid the lake his form to spy, 
Darkening across each puny wave. 
To which the moon her silver gave. 
Fast as ilie cormorant could skim, 
The swimmer plied ench active limb ; 
Then, landing in the moonlight dell, 
Loud shouted of his weal to tell. 
The minstiel heard the far halloo, 
And joyful from the shore withdrew 

END OF CANTO SECOND. 



THfi 

LADY OF THE LAKE. 

CANTO THIRD. 

THE GATHERING. 

I. 

TIME rolls his ceaseless course. The race of yore, 

Whodinced our infancy upon th3ir knee, 
And told our miivellins; boyhood legends store, 

Of their strani^e ventures liapp'd by land or sea, 
How they are blotted from the things that be ! 

How ^e\v^ all weak and withered of their force, 
Wait, on the verge of dirk eternity, 

Like stranded wrecks, the tide returning hoaise 
To sweep then from our sight ! Time rolls hi3 

ceaseless course. 
Yet live there still who can remember well, 

How, when a mountain chief bis busle blew. 
Both field and forest, dingle, cliff, and dell. 

And solitary heath, the signal knew, 
And fast the faithful clan around him drew. 

VVIial lime the warning note was keenly wound, 
Whit time aloft their kimlred banner flew. 

While clamorous war-pipes yelled the gathering 
sound 
And while the Fiery Cross glanced, like a meteor 
round. 

II. 
The summer dawn's reflected hue 
To purple chang-d Loch Katrine blue. 
Mildly and soft the western breeze 
Just kissed the lake, ju=!t stirred 'he trees, 
And the pleased lake, like maiden coy. 
Trembled, but dimpled not for joy : 



60 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto in 

The mountain shadows on her breast 

Were neither broken nor at rest ; 

In bright uncertainty thev lie, 

Like future joys to fancy's eye. 

The water lily to the light 

JHer chalice oped of silver bright ; 

The doe awoke, and to the lawn, 

Begemmed with dew-drops, led her fawn ; 

The gray mist left the mountain side, 

The torrent showed its glistening pride ; 

Invisible in flecked sky. 

The lark sent down her revelry ; 

The black-bird and the speckled thrush 

Good- morrow gave from brake and bush j 

In answer cooed the cushet dove. 

Her notes of peace, and rest, and love. 

III. 
No thought of pence, no thought of rest, 
Assuaged the storm in Roderick's breast. 
With sheathed broadsword in his hand, 
Abrupt he paced the islet strand. 
And eyed the rising sun, and laid 
His hand on his impatient blade. 
Beneath a rock, his vassal's care 
Was prompt the ritual to prepare, 
With deep and deathCul meaning fraught} 
For such antiquity had taught 
Was preface meet, ere yet abroad 
The Crossof Fire should take its road. 
The shrinking band stood oft aghast 
At the impatient glance he cast ;— 
Such glance the mountain eagle threwi 
As, from the cliffs of Benvenue, 
She spread her dark sails on the wind, 
And, high in middle heaven reclined. 
Withherdark shadow on the lake, 
Silenced the warblers of the brake. 



Canto m. THE GATHERING. 61 

A heap of withered boughs were piled, 

Of juniper and rcvvan wild, 

Mingled with shivers from the oak 

Rent by the lightning's recent stroke. 

Brian, the hermit, by it stood, 

Bare-footed, in his frock and hood ; 

His grisled beard and matted hair 

Obscured a visage of despair: 

His naked arms and legs, seemed o'er, 

Tlie scars of frantic penance bore. 

That Monk of savage form and face, 

The impending danger of hi - race 
Had drawn from deepest solitude, 
Far in Benharrow's bosom rude. 
Not his the mien of Christian priest, 
But druids, from the grave released, 
"Whose hardened heatt and eye miglit brook 
On human sacrifice to look. 
And much 'twas said, of heathen lore 
Mixed in the charms he muttered o'er ; 
The hallowed creed gave only worse 
And deadlieremphas's of curse. 
No peasant sought that hermit's prayer, 
His cave the pilgrim shunned with care : 
The eager huntsman knew liis bound, 
And in mid chase called otf his hound ; 
Or if, in lonely glen or strath, 
The desert-dweller met his path, 
He prayed, and signed the cross between, 
1 While terror took devotion's mien. 



Of Brian'sbirth strange tales were told. 
His mother watched a midnight fold, 
Built deep within a dreary glen, 
Where scAttor<»d lay the bones of men, 
5 



62 LADY OF THE LAKE, Canto UI. 

In some forgotten battle slain. 
And bleached by drifting wind and rain. 
It might have tamed a warrior's heart, 
To view such mocitery of his art. 
The kaot-grass fettered there the hand, 
Whicli ouce could burst an iron band ; 
Beneath the broad and ample bone. 
That buckled heart to fear unknown, 
A feeble and a timorous guest. 
The field-fare framed her lowly nest ; 
There the slow blind-worm left his slime 
On the fleet limbs thnt mocked at time ; 
And there, too, lay the leader's skull, 
Slill wreathed with chaplet flushed and full, 
For heath-bell, with her purple bloom. 
Supplied the bonnet and the plume. 
All night, in this sad glen, the maid 
Sate shrouded in her mantle's shade: 
She said, no sliepherd sought her side, 
No hunter's hand her snood untied, 
Yet ne'er again to braid lierhair 
The virgin snood did Alice wear ; 
Gone was her maiden glee and sport, 
Her maiden girdle all too short, 
Nor sought she from thai fatal niglit. 
Of holy church or blessed rile, 
But locked her secret in her breast, 
And died in travail, unconfesicd. ] 

VI 
Alone, among his young compeers, 
Was Brian from his infant years ; 
A moody and heart-broken boy, 
Estianged from sympathy and j --y, 
Bearing each tamrtwith careless tongue 
On his mysterious lineage flung. 
Wliole nights he spent by moonlight pale, 
To wood and stream liis hap to wail, 



Canto III. THE GATHERING. C3 

Till, frantic, he as truth received 

Wliat of his biith tlie crowd believed, 
And sought, in mist ;uid meteor fire, 
To meet and know his rhantom Sire! 
In vain, to soothe liis wayward late, 
Tlie cloister oped her pitying gate ; 
In vain, tlie learning of the age 
Unclasped tlie sable-lettered page ; 
Even in its treasures he could find 
Food for the fever of his mind. 
Eager he lead whatever tells 
Of magic, cabala, and spells, 

And every dark pursuit allied 

To curious and presumptuous pride, 

Till, with fired brain and nerves o'erstrung. 

And heart with mystic horrors wrung, 

Desperate he sought Benharrow 's den, 

And hid him from the haunts of men. 
VII. 

The desert gave him visions wild, 

Such as might suit the spectre's child : 

Wliere with black cliffs the torrents toil, 

He watched the wheeling eddies boil, 

Till, from their foam, his dazzled eyes 

Beheld the river demon rise ; 

The mountain mist took form and limb. 

Of nonntide hng, or goblin grim ; 

The midnight wind came wild and dread. 

Swelled with the voices of the dead ; 

Far on the futaie brttle -heath 

Hiseye beheld the ranks of death ; 

Thus the lone Seer, from mnnkind hurled, 

Shaped forth a disembodied world. 

One lingering sympathy of mind 

Still bound him to the moital kind ; 

The only paient he could claim 

0( ancient Alpine's lineage came. 
Late lie liad heard, in prophefsdieam, 
The fatal Ben-Shie's boding scream-, 



C4 LADY OP THE LAKE. Canto III. 

Sounds, too, had come in midnight blast, 
Of charging steeds careering fast. 
Along Eeuliarrow's shmgly side, 
Wiieie mortal horseman ne'er miglit ride ; 
Tiie thunder, loo, hath split the pine, — 
All augiir'd ill to Alpine's line. 
He girl his loins, and came to show 
The signals of impending wo, 
And niiw stood piompt to bless or ban, 
As bade the Chieftain of his clan. 

VIII. 
'Twas all prepared j— and from the rock, 
A goat, the palriarcli of the flock, 
Before the kindling pile was laid, 
And pierced by Roderick's ready blade. 
Patient the sickening victim eyed 
The life blood el-b in crimson tide, 
Down his clogged beaid and shaggy limb, 
Till darkness glazed his eye-balls dim. 
The grisly priest, with muimuring prayer, 
A slender oiosslel framed with care, 
A cubit's length in measure due; 
The shaft and limb were rods of yew, 
Whose parents in Inch-Cailliach wave 
Their shadows o'er Clan-Alpine's grave, 
And, answering Lomond's breezes deep, 
Soothe many a chieftain's endless sleep. 
The Cross, thus formed, he held on high, 
With wasted hand and haggard eye, 
And strange and mingled feelings woke, 
W liile his anathema he spoke. 

JX. 
" Wo to the clansman, who shall view 
This symbol of sepulchral yew, 
Forgettnl that its branches grew 
Where weep the heavens their holiest dew 
On Alpine's dwelliug low ! 



Canto IIL THE GATHERING. 65 

Deserter of his chieftain's trust. 
He ne'er shall minale «ith their dust, 
But I'roin his sires and liiiidred ihrust, 
Kach clansman's exec r It i(»ii just 

Shall doom him wrath and wo." 
He paused ;— the word the vassals took, 
With forward step and fiery look, 
On high their naked brands they shook. 
Their clattering targets widly stniok; 

And first, in muimur low, 
Then, like the billow in its course 
That far to seaward finds his source, 
And flings to shore his mustered force, 
Burst, with loud roar, their answer lioarse, 

" Wo to the traitor, wo I" 
Ben-an's giay scalp the accent? knew, 
The joyous wolf from covert drew, 
The exulting eagle screamed afar, — 
TJiey knew the voice of Alpine's war. 

X. 
The shout was hushed on lake and fell, 
The monk resumed his muttered spell. 
Dismal and luw its accents came, 
The while he scnthed the Crass with flame ; 
And the few words that reached the air, 
Although the holiest name was there, 
Had more of blasphemy than prayer. 
But when he shook above the crowd 
Its kindled points, he spoke aloud ;^ 
" Wo to the wretch, who fails to rear 
At this drend sign the ready spear ! 
For, as tlie flaine-5 this symbol sear, 
His horns, llie refuge of his fe.ir, 

A kindred fate shil] know ; 
Faroer its roof the volumed flame 
Clan- Alpine's vengeance shall proclaim. 
While maids and matrons on his name 
JShall call down wretchedness and shame, 
5* 



66 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto III. 

And infamy and wo." — 
Then rose the cry of females, shrill 
As goss hiuvks whistle on the hill. 
Denouncing misery and ill, 
Mingled with childhooers babbling thrill 

Of curses stammered slow ; 
Answering, with imprecation dread, 
" Sunli be his home in embers red j 
And cursed be the meanest shed 
Tliate'er shall hide the houseless head, 

We doom to want and wo !" 
A sharp and shrieking echo gave, 
Goir-Uriskin, thy goblin cave ! 
And the gray pass where birches wave, 

On Bealanam-bo. 

XI. 
Then deeper paused the priest anew, 
And hard his labouring breath he drew, 
While, wi!h set teeth, and clencliedhand, 
And eyes that glowed like fiery brand, 
He meditated curse mo;e dread. 
And deadlier, on the clansman's head, 
Who summoned to his Chieftain's aid, 
The signal saw and disobeyed. 
The crosslefs points of sparkling wood, 
He quenched among the bubbling blood, 
And, as again the sign he reared. 
Hollow and hoarse his voice was heard ; 
<' When flits this Cross from man to man, 
Vich-Alpine's summons to his clan, 
Burst be the ear that fails to heed ! 
Palsied the foot that shuns to speed .' 
May ravens tear the careless eyes, 
WoUes make the coward heart their prize ! 
As sinks ihat blood-stream in the irarlh, 
So may his hearfs-blood drench his hearth ! 
As dies in hissing gore the spark, 
Quench tliou \iH light, Deetruction dark ! 



Canto III. THE GATHERING. 

And be the grnce to him denied, 
Brought by thii siga to all beside !" — 
He ceased 5 no echo gave agent 
The muraiur oft lie deep Amen. 

XII. 
Then Roderick, with impatient look, 
Fiom Brians hand the symbol took ; 
'' Speed, Malise, speed !" he said, and gave 
The crosslet to his hench-mau brave. 
" The muster-place be Lanric mead — 
Instant the time— speed, Mali-re, speed I"' 
Like heath bird, when the hawks pursue, 
A barge across Loch-Katrine flew j 
High stood the hench-man on the prow. 
So rapidly the barge-men row, 
The bubbles, where they launched the boat, 
Were all unbroken and afloat, 
Dancing in foam and ripple sidl, 
When it Jiad Reared the maiidand liill ; 
And from the sdver beach's side 
Still was the prow three fathom wide, 
When lightly bounded to the land, 
The messenger of blood and brand. 

xin. 

Speed, Malise, speed ! the dun deer's hide 
On fleeter foot was never tied. 
Speed, Malise, speed I such cause of haste 
1'hine active sinews never braced. 
Bend 'gainst the steepy hill thy breast, 
Burst down like torrent from its crest j 
Wiih short and springing footstep pass 
The trembling b(.g and false morass ; 
Across the brook like roe-buck bound. 
And thread the brake like ques'ing hound; 
The craig is high, the scaur is deep. 
Yet shrink not from the desperate leap j 



LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto HI. 

Parched are thy burning h'pg and brow, 

Yet by the fountain pause not now ; 

Herald of baUle, fate, and fear, 

ftreich onward in thy fleet career! 

The wounded hint! tiiou track'st not now, 

Pursuest not maid through greenwood bough, 

Is'or i»:iest thou now thy flying pace, 

Wiih rivals in the mountain race ; 

But danger, death and warrior deed, 

Are in thy course — Speed, Mahse, speed ! 

XIV. 
Fast as the fatal symhol flies, 
In arms the hulsand hamlets rise ; 
Fiom winding glen, from up'and brown, 
They poured each hardy tenant down. 
JN'or slacked the messenger his pace ; 
He showed the sign, he named the place, 
And, pressing forward like the wind, 
Left clamour andsarprise behind. 
The fisherman forsook the strand, 
The swarthy smith took dii k and brand ; 
With changed cheer, the mower blithe 
Left in tiie half-cut swathe his scythe ; 
The herds without a keeper strayed, 
The plough was in niid-fui row stayed, 
The falc'ner tossed his hawk away, 
The hunter left the stag at bay ; 
Prompt at the signal of alarms ; 
Each son of Alpine rushed to arms ; 
So swept the tumult and afliay 
Along the margin of Achray. 
Alas, thou lovely lake! that e'er 
Thy banks should echo sounds of fear, 
The rocks, the bosky thickets, sleep 
So stilly on thy bosom deep. 
The lark's blithe carol from the cloud, 
geems for the scene too gayly loud. 



Canto III. THE GATHERING. C9 

XV. 
Speed, Mdlise, speed ! tlie lake is past, 
Diincra^gan's huts appear at iast, 
And peep, like luois grown rocks, half seen, 
Hall hidden in tlie copse so green ; 
There may'st thou rest, tiiy labour done. 
Their lord shall speed the signal on.— 
As stoops the hawk upon his piey, 
The hench-nian shot him down tlia way. 
What woful accents load the gale ? 
The funeral yell, the female wail \ — 
A gallant hunter's sport is o'er, 
A valiant warrior fights no more, 
Who, in the battle or the chase, 
At Roderick's side Eln!' ^nivr^T-'o.re! - 
Within the hall, where torches' ray 
Supply the excluded beams of day. 
Lies Duncan on his lowly bier, 
And o'er him streams his widow's tear. 
His stiipling son stands mournful by, 
His youngest weeps, but knows not why, 
The village maids and matrons round 
The dismal coronach* resound. 

XVI., 

CORONACH. 

He is gone on the mountain, 

He is lost to the forest, 
Like a summef-dried fuuntain, 

When our need was the sorest. 
The hint, re-appearing, 

From the lain drops shall borrow, 
But to u?= comes no cheering, 

To Duncan no morrow ! 
The hand of lire reaper 

Take the ears that are hoary, 
But the voice of the weeper 

Wails manhood m glory 1 
The autumn winds r ushiiig 

Waft the leaves that are searest, 
* Funeral Song. See Note, 



70 LADY OP THE LAKE. Canto III. 

But our flower w.is in flushing, 
When biiglitUig was neaicit. 

Fleet foot on the conei,* 

iMi^e counsel encumber. 
lU-d ii.uid in ilie luray, 

Ilt.w scuud IS thy slumber ! 
Like ihtf- acw un ilie mouiuain, 

liikt the IdUiii oil the river, 
Like li;e buliLle on ihe louulain, 

'iliou ait gone, and lor ever! 

XVII. 
See ?tumah,t who, the bier beside, 
llismaster'ti corpse with wonder eyed, 
Poor Stumah ! whom his least halloo 
Could sendiike lightning o'er the dew, 
Bristles his crest, and points his ears, 
Aa if some stranger step he hears. 
Tisnota mourner's muffled tread, 
Who comes to sorrow o'er the dead, 
But headlong haste or deadly fear, 
Urge the precipitate career. 
All stand agh:ist, ;— unheeding all , 
The henchman bursts into the hall ; 
Before the deiid man's bier he stood.' 

Held f >ri:h the Cross besmeared wilh blood ; 

" The nuister place be Lanric mead ; 

Speed forth the signal ! clansman, speed !" 
XVIIl. 

Angus, the heir of Duncan's line, 

Sprung fjith and seized the futal sign. 

In haste the stripling to his side. 

His father's dirk and broadsvvoid tied, 

But when he saw his mother s eye 

AVatch him in speechless ngony, 

Back to her opened arms he flew, 

Presced on her lips a fond adieu — 

* Or corri. 1 he hollow side of the hill, 
where game usually lies, 
j Paithful. The name of a dog. 



Canto lU. THE GATHERING. 

«' Alas!" she sobbed,—" and yet be gone, 
And speed thee forth, like Duncan's son!" 
Onelotik he cast upon the lier, 
Dashed from his eye the jratherin"; tear, 
Breatlied deep, to clear his labouring breast, 
And tossd aloft his bonnet crest, 
Then, like the high-bred colt when freed 
First he essays his fire and speed, 
He vanis'lied, and o'er moor and moss 
Sped forth with Ihe Fiery Cross. 
Suspended was the widows tear, 
While yet his footsteps she could hear; 
And when she marked the henchman's eye 
Wet with unwonted sympathy, 
''Kinsman," she said," his race is run. 
That should have sped thine errand on; 
The oak his fallen,— the sapling bough 
Is all Duncraggan's shelter now. 
Yet trust I well, his duty done, 
The orphans God will guard my son.— 
And you, in many a danger true, 
At Duncan's best your blade? that drew, 
To arms, and guard that orphan's 1 ead ! 
Let babt s and women wail the dead." 
Then weapon clang, and maitial call, 
Resounded through the funeral hnll. 
While from the walls tlie attendant band 
Snatched sword and targe, with hurried hand, 
And short and flitting energy 
Glanced from the mourner's sunken eye, 
As if the sounds to warrior dear 
Might rouse her Duncan from his bier ; 
Bu' faded soon that boriowed force ; 
Grief claimed his right, and tears theii couj'se. 

XIX. 
Benledi saw the Cross of Fire, 
It glanced like lightning up Strath-Ire. 



LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto III. 

O'er dale and hill the summons fleWj 
Nor rest nor pause young Angus knew ; 
The tear that gathered in liis eye, 
He left the mountain breeze to dry ; 
Until, where Teith's young waters roll, 
Betwixt him and a wooden knoll , 
Tiiat graced the sable stralh with green, 
The chapel of Saint Bride was seen. 
Swoln was the stream, remote the bridge, 
But Angus paused not on the edge ; 
Though tht* dark waves danced dizzily, 
ThouL'h reeled his sympathetic eye. 
He dashed amid the torrent •« roar ; 
His rJL'ht hand high the crosslet bore, 
His left the pole-axe grasped, to guide 
And stay his footing in the tide. 
He stumbled twice— the foam splashed high, 
With hoarser swell the stream raced by ; 
And had he fallen, — ''or ever there, 

Farewell Duncraggan's orphan heir I 
But slill, as if in parting life, 

Firmer he grasped the Cross of strife, 

Until the opposing bank he gained, 

And up the chapel pathway strained. 
XX. 

A blithsnme rout, that morning tide. 

Had sought the chapel of Saint Bride, 

Her troth Tom bea's Mary gave 

To Norman, heir of Armnndave, 

And, issuing from the Gothic arch, 

The bridal now resumed their march. 

In rude, but glad procession, came 

Bonneted sire and coif-clad dame ; 

And plaided youth, with jest and jeer, 

VViiich ?nooded maiden would not hear; 

And children, ihat, unwitting why, 

Lent their gay shout the shrilly cry ; 



Canto 111. THE GATHERING. TS 

And minstrels, that in measures vied 
Before tlie young and bonny bride, 
Wliose downcast eye and clieek disclose 
The tear and blush of inorning ro^. 
With virgin step, and basliful hand. 
She held tlie kerchiffs snowy band ; 
Tiie nallant bridegroom, by her eide, 
Beheld his prize with victor's pride, 
And the glad mother in her ear 
Was closely whispering word of cheer. 

XXI. 

Who meets them at the churchyard gate .' 

The messenger of tear and fate ! 

Hastein his hurried accent lies, 

And grief is swimming in his eyes. 

All dripping from the recent flood, 

Panting and travel-soiled he stood, 

The fatal sign of fire and sword 

Held forth, and spolie the appointed word : 

" The mustering place is Lanric mead, 

Speed forth the signal ! Norman Sfieed I"— 

And must he ch^mge so soon the hand, 

Just linked to his by holy band, 

For the fell Cross of blood and brand ? 

And must the day, so blithe that rose, 

And promised rapture in the close, 

Before its setting hour, divide 

The bridegroom fromthe pliglited bride? 

O fatal doom ! — it must I it must ! 

Clan Alpine's cause, her chieftain's trust. 

Her summons dread brooks no delay ; 

Stretch to the race— aw?>y ! away ! 

XXII. 
Yet slow he laid his plaid aside. 
And, lingering, eyed his lovely bride, 
Until he saw the starting tear 
Speak wo he might not £top to chew •, 



74 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto in. 

Then trusting not a second look, 
111 haste he sped him unllie brook, 
IMor backward "ilmced till on the heith 
Whr^re Lubn:ii;;'s lake supplies IheTeith— 
What i:i the racer's bosom slined ? — 
TJie sickening pang of hope deferred, 
A yd memory, with a torturing train 
Of all his morning visions vain, 
Jiingled with love's impatience, came 
The manly thirst for martial lame ; 
The stormy joy of mounlaineers. 
Ere yet they rush upon thespears •, 
And zeal for clan and chieftain burning, 
Anrl hope, from well-fought field returning, 
With war's re 1 honours on hi? crest, 
To clasp his IVLiry to his breast. 
S:un2 by suc'i thoughts, o'er bank and brae, 
Like fie from flint he glanced away, 
While h-gh resolve, and feeling strong, 
Burst uito voluntary song. 
XXIIL 
SONG. 
The heath this night mnst be my bed, 
The brackiii* curtain for my head, 
My lullaby the warder's tread. 

far, fpr frou love and thee, Mary, 
Tn-morr»w eve, more :^tilly laid, 
My couch may be my bU'ody plaid. 
My vepser fong, lliy wail, sweet maid ! 
* It will not waken me, Mary ! 

I mny not, daienPt, fancy now 

The grief that clouds ihy lovely brow, 

I date not tiiiiik upon thy vow, 

And ;'ll it proniii^ed me, Mary. 
^'(» fond reprel niii>ljNo:nian know ; 
When burtis Clan-Alpine on ihe foe, 
His he'.irt must be like 1 ended liow, 

His fool like arrow free, Mary. 
A time will come with feeling fraught ! 
For, if 1 fall in battle (biight, 
Bratkcn-Tetn. 



Canto HI. THE GATIIERIXG. 75 

Thy liap'efs lover's dying thought 
Chilli be a tlioimht on ihee, Mary. 

And if returned Iroin conquered foes, 

Hiw blithely will ihe evening close, 

How sweet the iinii* t sing repa-e, 

'I'o my young bride and uie, Mary I 

XXIV. 
Not faster o'er (hy heathery braes, 
Ea'quidder, speeds Ihe midnight blaze, 
Rushing, in conflagration strong, 
Thy deep ravines and dells along, 
Wrapping thy clifls in purple glow, 
And reddening the dark lakes Le!ow ; 
rs'or faster speeds it, norso far, 
As o'er thy lieatJi.- the voice o*' war. 
Tiie signal roused to naaitia! coil 
The sullen margin of Loch-Voil, 
'Waked still Loth Doine, and to the source 
Alarmed, Balvaig, thy swampy course ; 
Tlience southward turned its rapid road 
Adown Stratii-Gartney's valley broad. 
Till rose in arms each man might claim 
A poriion in Clan-Alpine's name ; 
From the gray sire, whose trembling hand 
Cc uld haidly buckle on his brand, 
To the raw boy, whose shaft and bow 
VAere yet scarce terror to ihe crtvv. 
Each valley, each sequestered glen. 
Mustered its liitle horde of men, 
That met ai torrciits from the height 
In Highland date tbeur streams unite, 
Still gathering, as they pour along, 
A voice more loud, a tide more strong, 
Till at tiie rendezvous they stood 
By h\uidreds, prompt for blows and blood; 
Each trained to arms since life be^an. 
Owing no tie but to his clan, 
Hjo oath, but by his chieftain^s hand, 
^o law, but Roderick Dhu's commaad. 



LADY OP THE LAKE. Cant© III. 

XXV. 
That summer morn liad Roderick Dim 
Surveyed the skills of Ben venue, 
And sent his scouts o'er hill and heath; 
Tu view the I'roaiiers of Menteith. 
All backward came with news of truce ; 
Still lay each niariial Grieme and Biuce, 
In iledno(;iv courts no horsemen wait, 
Ko banner waved on Cardross gate. 
On Duchiay's towers Jio beacon shone, 
Nor scared the herons from Lotih-Gon ; 
All seemed at peace.— Now, wot ye why 
The chieftam, with such anxious eye, 
Ere 10 the muster he repair, 
TJiis western frontier scanu'd with care ?— 
In Ben venue's most darksome cleft, 
A fair, th .'Ugh cruel, pledge was left ; 
For Douglas?, to his promise true, 
That moiiung from the isle witlidrew, 
And in a deep sequestered dell 
Had sought alow and lonely cell. 
13y many a bard in Celtic tongue, 
lias Coir-uan-Uriskin been sung; 
A softer name the Saxons gave. 
And called the grot the Goblin-cave. 

XXVI. 

It was a wi;d and strange retreat, 
As e'er was trod by outlaw's feet. 
The dell, upon the mmntain's crest, 
Yawned like a ga.sh on warrior's breast ; 
Its trench had sl.iyed full many a rock. 
Hurled by primeval earthquake shock 
Fiom Benvenue's gray summit wild, 
And here, in random ruin piled, 
They frowned incumbent o'er the spot, 
And fomied the rugged sylvan grot. 
The oak and birch, with mingled shade 
At noontide tliere a twilight made, 



Canto III. THE GATHERING. 

Unless when short and sud.'en shone 
Sotiie straj.'g!ing; beam on cliff or stone, 
With s-ucha glimpse as propliel'seye 
Gaiii^on thy depth, Futurity. 
No murmur waked thesoleam still, 
?ave tinkling of a fountain rill ; 
But when the wind chafed with ihe lake, 
A sullen sound wmild upward break, 
With dashing hollow voice, that spoke 
The incessant war of wave and rock. 
Suspended clilTs, with hideous sway, 
Seeine 1 nodding oer the cavern gray. 
Froiji such a den the wolf had spiung, 
Insuch the wild cat leaves iier young > 
Yet Douglas and his daughter fair, 
Sought, for a sjiace, their safety there. 
Gray Superstition's whisper dread 
Debarred the spot to vulgar tread ; 
For there, she said, did fays resort, 
And satyrs* hold their sylvan court. 
By moonlight tiead their mysiir, maze. 
And blast the rash beholder's gaze. 

xxvir. 

Now eve, with western shadows long, 
Floated on Katrine bright and stiong, 
When Roderick, with a chosen iew^ 
Repassed tlie heights of Ben venue. 
Above the Gobhn-cave tliey go, 
Through the wild pass of Heal-nam-Bo; 
The prompt letainers speed befoie, 
To launch the shallop from the shore, 
For Cioss Loch-Katrine lies his way 
To view the pases of Achray, 
And place his clansmen in array. 
Yet lags the Chief in musing mind, 
U 3 wonted sight, his men behind. 

* he Urisk, or highland satyr. See Noti, 

6- 



LADY OP THE LAKE. Canto III. 

A single page, to bear his sword, 

Alone attended on his lord ; 

The rest their way through thickets break, 

And soon await him by the lake. 

It was a fair ami gallant sight, 

To view them from the neishboiiring height. 

By the low-levelled sunlieanrs light ; 

For strength and sitatme, from the clan 

Each wariior was a chosen man. 

As evcii afa* aught well be seen, 

lly ilieii proud siep and martial mien. 

Their feathers dance, their taitans float. 

Their targets eleain, as by ihe boat 

A wild all'.! waniUe groupe they stand, 

That well became such iniountain strand. 

xxvni. 

Their chief with step reluciant still. 
Was lingering on the craggy hill, 
Hard by where turned aparn tiie road 
To Douglas's obscure abode. 
It was but with that dawning morn 
That Roderick Dhu had proudly sworn, 
To drown his love in war's wild roar, 
Nor think of Ellen Douglas more ; 
But he who stems a stream with sand, 
And fetters flame with fl.ixen band. 
Has yet a harder task to prove — 
By firm resolve to conquer love ! 
Eve finds the chief, like restless ghost. 
Still hovering near his treasure lost j 
For though his ha ighty heart deny 
A parting meeting to his eye, 
Still fondly strains his anxious ear, 
The accents of her voice to hear. 
And inly did he curse the breeze 
That waked to sound the rustling trees. 
But hark ! what mingles in the strain ' 
It is the harp of Allan-bane, 



Canto III, THE GATHERING. 

That wakes its measures slow and hi'»h, 
Attuned to sacred minstrelsy. 
What melting voice attends the strings ? 
'Tis Ellen, or an Angel, sings. 

XXIX. 
HYMN TO THE VIRGIN. 
Ave Maria ! maiden mild ! 

Listen to a maidens piaj'er ; 
Thou canst hear, liiougli from the wild ; 

Thou canst save amid despair. 
Safe muy we sleep tieneatli thy care, 

Thouiih banish'd , outcast, and reviled — 
Maiden I he;u a maide ns prayer, 
Motlierl hear a suppliant child ; 

Ave Maria I 
Ave Maria ! undefiled ! 

The flinty couch we now must share, 
Shall seem with down of eider pded, 

If thy protection hover there. 
The murky cavern's heavy air 

Shall breathe of balm if thdu hast smiled ; 
Then, maiden I lieai a maiden s praver, 
Mother, list a suppliant child I 

Ave Maria I 
Ave Maria ! stainless styled ! 

Foul ilemons of the earth and air. 
From this their wonied h luiit exiled, 

Sh 11 flee before thy ineseiice fair. 
We bow us to our lot of care, 

Beneath thy guidance recmicilcd ; 
Hear for a mail a maiden's prayer, 
And for a lather hear a child ! 

Ave Maria I 
XXX. 
Died on the harp the closing hymn, 
Unmoved in attitude and limb. 
As listening still, Clan-Alpine's lord 
Stood leaning on his heavy sword, 
Until the page, with humble sign 
Twice pointed to the sun's decline ; 
Then while his plaid he round him cast, 
" It is the las', time— 'lis the last,''— 
He muttered thrice,—" the last time e'er 
That angel voice shall Roderick hear !'» 



LADY OP THE LAKn. Canto Ql. 

It was a goading thoiiglit— his stride 
Hied hastier down the mouiitnin side ; 
Sullen he flung him in the boat, 
And instant cros^ tlie laite it shot. 
They landed in that silver bay, 
And eastward held their hasty way, 
Till with the latest beams of light, 
The band arrived on Lanric height, 
Wliere mustered in the vale below, 
Clan Alpine's men in martial show. 

xxxr. 

A various scene the clansmen made. 
Some sate, some stood, some slowly strayed ; 
But most, with mantles folded round, 
Were couched to rest upon the ground, 
Scarce to be known by wandering eye. 
From the deep heather where they lie, 
So well was matched tiie tartan scteen 
With he.ith-bell dark and brackens green ; 
Unless where, here and there, a blade, 
Or lance's point, a glimmer made, 
Like glowworm twinkling through the shade. 
But, v\hen, advancing through the gloom, 
They saw the Chieftain's eagle p'ume. 
Their shout of welcome, shrill and wide, 
Shock the steep mountain's steady side. 
Thrice it arose, and lake and fell 
Three limes returned the martial yell. 
It died upon Bo«Jiiaslle's plain, 
And si.ence claimed iier evening reign. 

END OF CANTO THIRD 



THK 

L.ADY OF THE LAKE. 

CANTO FOURTH. 

THE PROPHECY. 

I. 

" The rose is fairest when 'tis budding new, 

And liope is biiglitest vvlien ii dawns from fears ; 
Tlie rose is sweetest washed with morning dew, 
And love is loveliest when enibahr.ed in tears. 
O wilding rose, whom fancy thus eiuleai.--. 
I bid your blossoms in my boivaet wti\ (•, 
Emblem of hope and love throtfgB tmtire y^avs 1'' 
Thus spoke j'oung Norman, heir of Armtindave, 
What time the sun arose on Vennachar's broad wave. 

II. 
Such fond conceit, half said, half sun";, 
Love prompted to the bridegroom's tongue •, 
All while he stripped the wild-rose spray, 
His axe and bow beside him lay, 
For on a pass 'twixt lake and wood, 
A wakeful sentinel he stood. 
Haik !— on the rock a foolftep rung, 
And instant to his arms he sprung. 
" Stand, or thuu diest !— What, Malise ?— soon 
Art thou returned from Braes of Doune. 
By thy keen step and glance I know, 
Thou bringst us tidings of the foe." — 
(For while the Fiery Cross hied on, 
On distant scout had Malise gone.) 



82 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto IV, 

" Where sleeps the Chief?" the henchman said, 

" Apart in yonder misty glade; 

To his lone ctuch I'll be your guide." 

Then called a sluinberer by his side, | 

And stirred hiui with his slackened bow— 

" Up, up, G:entarkin ! rouse thee, ho ! 

We seeii the Chieftain ; oa ilu track 

Keep eagle -watch till I come back.'* 

III. 

Together up the pass they sped : 
What of ihe foemen," Norman said— 
Vaiying repots from near and far; 
This i.e. tain,— that a band of war 
Has for two days been ready boune, 
At prompt command to march fiom Doune ; 
King James, the while, with princely powera, 
Holds revelry in Stirling towers. 
Soon will the dark and gathering cloud 
Speak on our glens in lliuiiders loud. 
Inu;ed to bide such bitter b«ut, 
The warrior's plaid may bear it out ; 
But, Norman, how wilt tin.u provide 
A shelter for ihy bonny bride? ' — 
*'What! know ye not that Roderick's care 
To the lone isle hath caused repair 
Each maid and matron of the clan, 
And every child and aged man 
Unfit for arms? and given his charge, 
Nor skiff nor shallop, boat nor barge, 
Upon these laV^es shall float at large, 
But all beside ihe islet moor, 
That such dear pledge may rest secure P* 

IV. 
" 'Tis well advised— the Chieftain's plan 
Bespeaks the father of his clan. 
But wherefore sleeps rrir Roderick Dhu 
Apart from all his fo Uowers true ? 



CnntoIV. THE PROPHECY. 83 

" It is, lecause last evening- tide, 

Brian an auiiury hid tried, 

or that d;ead kind which must not be 

Unless in dread extiemityj 

The Talghavm called j by which afar, 

Our sites foresaw the events of war. 

Duacraggan's milk-white bull they slew," — 

MALISE. 
*' Ah ! well the gallant brute I knew ! 
The choicest of the piey we had, 
When swept our merry-men Galiangad. 
Iljj hide was snow, his horns were dark, 
His red eye glowed like fiery spark ; 
So fierce, so tameless, and so fleet, 
5o:e did lie cumber our retreat, 
And kept our stoutest kernes in awe, 
Even at the pass of Beal 'inaha. 
But steep ard flinty was ihe road. 
And sharp the hurrying pikeman's goad, 
And when we came to Uennan's Row, 
A child might scatheless stroke his brow." 

NORMAN. 
" That bull was slain: his reeking hide 
They stretched the cataract bc^iGe, 
Whose waters their wild tumult toss 
Adown the black and craggy boss 
Of th\t h:;ge clifl", whose ample verge 
Tradition calls the Heroe's Targe. 
Conch'd on a shelve benenth i(s brink, 
Close where the thundering torrents sink, 
Rocking beneath their headlong sway, 
And drizzled by the ceaseless spray, 
Midst groin of rock, and roar of stream, 
The wizard wiits prophetic dteim. 
Kor distant rests the Chef: but hush I 
See glidi.'ig slow throu^'h mist and bush, 
The hermit gains yon rock, and stands 
To gaze upon our slumbering bands. 



84 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto IV. 

Seems he not, Malise, like a ghost, 

That hovers o'er a slaughter' d host ! 

Or raven on the blasted oak, 

That, watching while the deer is broke,* 

His morsel claims with sullen croak?'' — 

— " reace! jjeace! to other than to me, 

Thy words were evil augury; 

But still I hold Sir Kodcrick's blade 

Clan Alpine's omen and her aid. 

Not aught that, gleaned from heaven or hell, 

Yon fiend begotten monk can tell. 

The Chieftain joins him, see— and now, 

Together they descend the brow." — 

VI. 

And, as they came, with Alpine's lord 
The hermit Monk held solemn word •, 
" Roderick 1 it is a fearful strife. 
For mm endowed with mortal life. 
Whose shroud of sentient clay can still 
Feel feverish pang and fainting chill, 
Whose eye can stare in stony trance, 
Whose air can rouse like warrior's lance, — 
'Tis liard for such to view unfurled, 
The curtaia of the future world. 
Yet, witness every quaking limb, 
My sunken pulse, mine eyeballs dim, 
My soul with harrowing anguish torn, 
This for niy chieftain have I borne I— 
The shapes that sought my fearful couch, 
A human tongue may ne'er avouch ; 
No mortal man,— save he, who, bred 
Between the living and the dead. 
Is gifted beyond nature's law, — 
Had e'er survival to say he saw. 
At length the fatal answer came, 
In characters of living flame 

=* Quartered. Sec Note. 



Canto IV. THE PROPHECY. 

Not spoke In word, nor blnzed in scroll, 
But borne and branded on nij' sonl ; — 
Which spills the foremost foeman's life, 
That party conquers in the strife," 

VII. 

" T'rinnkg, Brian, for thy zeal and care ! 
Good is thine au2ury, and fair. 
Clan-Alpine, ne'er in battle stood, 
But first our broadswords tasted blood, 
A surer victim still I know, 
Self-oflered to tbe auspicious blow, 
A spy has sou^lit my land this mom, 
No eve shall witness his return! 
My followers guard each pass's mouth, 
To east, to westward, and to south ; 
Red Mu;doch, bribed to le his euide, 
Has charrie to lead his steps aside, 
Till, in deep path, or dingle brown. 
He light on those shall bring him down. — 
But see, who comes his news to show ! 
Malise ! what tidings of the foe ?'' 

VIII. 

♦' At DouTie, o'er many a spear and slaivCi 
Two batons proud their banners wave. 
I saw the Moray's silver star, 
And mark'd the sable pale of Mar.'' — 
•' By Alpine's soul, high tidings those! 
I love to hear of wor'hy f >es. 
When move they on?" — To-morrow's noon, 
Will see them here for bnttle houne."— 
" Then shall it see a meeting stern ! — 
But, for the place— say, couldst thou learn 
Nought of the friendly clans of Earn? 
Strengthened by them we well might bide 
The battle on Benledi'a side.— 



86 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto IV. 

Thou couldst not?— well! Clan-Alpine's men 
Shall man the Trosach's shaggy glen ; 
Within Loch Katrines gotge we'll fight, 
All in our maids' and matrons' sight, 
Each for his hearth and household fire. 
Father for child, and son for sire, 
Lover for maid beloved !— but why- 
Is it the breeze affects mine eye ? 
Or dost thou come, ill-omen 'd tear ! 
A messenger of doubt or fear? 
No ! sooner may thy Saxon lance 
Unfix Benledi from his stance, 
Than doubt or terror can pierce through 
The unyielding heart of Roderick Dhu ; 
'Tis stubborn as his trusty targe. — 
Each to his post !— all know their charge."— 
The pibroch sounds, the bands advance, 
The broadswords gleam, the banners dance, 
Obedient to the chieftain's glance. 
I turn me from the martial loar, 
And seek Coir Uiiskin once morel 

IX. 
Where is the Douglas? he is gonej 
And Ellen sits on the gray stone 
Fast by the cave, and makes her moanj 
While vainly Allan's words of cheer 
Are poured on her unheeding ear.— 
«« He will return— Dear lady, trusf !-^ 
With joy return ;— he Will— he must. 
Well was it time to seek afar, 
Some refuge from impending war, 
When e'en <^lan-AIpine's rugged swarm 
Are cow'd by the approaching storm. 
I saw their boats, with many a light, 
Floating the live-long yesternight, 
Shifting like flashes darted forth 
By the red streamers of the north j 



Canto IV. THE PROPHECY. 87 

I marked at morn how close they ride, 
Thick moored by the lone islet's side, 
Like wild ducks couching in the fen, 
Wliea stoops the hawk upon the glen. 
Since this rude, race dare not abide 
The peril on the mainland side, 
Shall not ihy noble father's care 
Some safe retreat for thee prepare.'"— 



ELLEN. 
No, Allan, no ! Pretext so kind 
My wakeful terrors could not blind. 
When in such tender tone, yet grave, 
Douglas a parting blessing gave, 
The tear that glistened in his eye 
Drowned not his purpose fixed and high. 
My soul, though feminine and weak, 
Can image his ; e'en as the lake. 
Itself disturbed by slightest stroke, 
Reflects the invulnerable rock. 
He hears report of battle rife, 
He deems himself the cause of strife. 
I saw him redden, when the theme 
Turned, Allan, on thine idle dream 
Of Malcolm Graeme in fetters bouud, 
Which I, thou said'st, about him wound. 
rhink"st thou he trow'd thine omen aught? 
Oh no ! 'twas apprehensive thought 
For the kind youth, — for Roderick too — 
(Let me be just) that frienfl so true; 
III danger both, and in our cause ! 
Minstrel, the Douglas dare not pause. 
Why else that solemn warning given, 
"If not on earth, we meet in heaven !" 
Why else, to Cambus-kenneth's fane, 
If eve return him not again, 



LADY OF THE LAKK. Canto IV. 

Am I to hie and make me known ? 
Alas ! he goes to Scotland's throne. 
Buys his friends' safety with his own ; — 
He goes to do— what I had dune, 
Had Douglas' daughler been liis son !" 

XI. 
* ' Nay, lovel Ellen .'—dearest nay I 
If au^litihouldhis return delay, 
He only named yon holy fane 
As filling place lo meet again. 
Besare he s sale; aud .or ilie Graeme,— 
Heaven's olessing on his ga.lant name I— 
My vision sight inay yet prove true, 
I^or bode ol ill to him or you. 
When did my gifted dream beguile? 
Think of the stranger at ihe isle, 
And ihinli upon the liarpings s!ow. 
Thai presaged this approaching wo '. 
Sooih was my prophecy ol fear ; 
Believe it when it augurs cheer. 
Would we had left this dismal spot ! 
Ill luck still haunts a fairy grot. 
Of such a wondrous tale I know- 
Dear lady, change that look of wo ! 
My harp was wont thy grief lo cheer," — 

ELLEN. 
«« Well, he it as thou wilt ; I liei^r, 
But cannot stop the bursiingtear."— 
The minstrel tried his simijle art, 
But distani far was Ellen's heart. 
XII. 
BALLAD— ALICE BRAND. 
Merry it is in the good green wood, 

When ihe mavis* and merle j are singing, 
When the deer sweeps by, and the hound;sare in cry, 
And the hunter's hoin is linging. 

* Thrush. § Blackbird. 



Canto IV. THE PROPHECY. 

" O Alice Brand, my native land 

Is lost for love of 5'ou •, 
And we must hold by wood and wold, 

.\s outlaws wont to do. 
" O Alice, 'twas all for thy locks so bright, 

And 'twas all for thine eyes so blue, 
That on the night of our luckless flight, 

Thy brother bold I slew. 
" Now must I teach to hew the beech, 

The hand that held the glaive, 
For leaves to spread our lowly bed, 

And stakes to fence our cave. 
" And for vest of pall, thy fingers small, 

That wont on harp to stray, 
A cloak must shear from the slaughteied deer, 

To keep the cold away."— 

"O Richard! if my brother died, 

'Twas but a fatal chance; 
For darkling was the battle tried. 

And fortune sped the lance. 
" If pnll and vair no more I wear. 

Nor thou the crimson sheen. 
As warm, we'll say, is the russet gray, 

As gay as tlie forest- green. 
" And, Richard, if our lot be hard, 

And lost thy native land, 
Still Alice has her own Richard, 

And he his Alice Brand." — 

XIII. 
BALLAD CONTINUED. 
'Tis merty, 'tis merry in good green wood, 

So blithe Lady Alice is singing ; 
On the beech's pride, and the oak'a browa side. 
Lord Richard's axe is linging. 



LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto IV. 

Up spoke the moody Elfin King, 

Who woii'd within the hill, — 
Lllte wind in ihe poich of a ruined church, 

His voice was glicslly shrill. 
♦« Why sounds yon s'rokeon beech and oak, 

Our moonlight circle's screen? 
Or who comes here to chase the deer, 

Beloved of our Elfin Queen ? 
Or who may dare on wold to wear 

The fairie's fatal green i* 

" Up, Urgan, up ! to yon mortal hie. 

For thou wert christened man ; 
For cross or sign thou wiitnotfly 

For muttered word or ban. 
•'Lay on him the curseof the withered heart, 

The cur^e of the sleepless eye ; 
Till he wish and pvay that his life would part, 

Moryet find leave to die." — 
XIV. 
BALLAD CONTINUED. 
•Tis merry, His merry, in good green wood, 

Though the birds have stilled their singing, 
The evening blaze doth Alice raise, 

And Richard is fagots bringing. 
Up Urgan starts, that hideous dwarf, 

Before Lord Richaid stands, 
And, as he crossed and blessed himself, 

"I fear not sign," quoth the grimly elf, 
♦' That is made with bloody hands. 
But out then spoke she, Alice Brand, 

That woman void of fear,— 
•'And if there's blood upon his hand," 

'Tis but the blood of deer."— 

•' Now loud thou liest, thou bold of mood ! 

It cleaves unto his hand. 
The stain of thine own kindly blood, 
The blood of Ethert Brand."— 



Canto IV, THE PROPHECY. OT 

Then forward stepp'd she Alice Brand, 

And made the holy sign, — 
" And if there's blood on Richard's hand, 

A spotless hand is mine. 

" And I conj.ire thee, Demon elf, 

By him whom Demons fear, 
To show us whence thou ait thyself? 

Aiid what thine errand heief"— 

XV- 

BALLAD CONTINUED. 

" 'Tis merry, 'tis merry in Fairy land, 

Wlien fairy birds are singing, 
When the court doth ride by thek monarclj's Bide, 

With bit and bridle ringing. 

" And g lyly shines the Fairy laud — 

But all is glistening show, 
Like the idle gleam that December's beam 

Can dart on ice and snow. 

*' And lading, like that varied gleam, 

Is our inconstant shape. 
Who now like knight and lady seem, 

And now like dwarf and ape. 

" It was between the night and day, 

When the Fairy King has power, 
Tliiit I sunk down in a sinlul fray, 
And, 'twixt life and death, was snatched away, 

To the joyless Elfin bower. 

" But wist I of a woman bold, 

Who thrice my brow durst sign, 
I might regain my mortal mold, 

As fair a form a> thine." 



92 LADY OF THE L^E. Canto IV 

She crossed him once— she crossed him twice — 

That lady was so brave: 
The fouler grew his goblin hue, 

The darker grew the cave. 

She crossed him twice, that lady bold : 

He rose beneath her hand 
The fairest knight on Scottish mold, 

Her Biother, Ethert Brand! 

Merry it is in the good green wood, 
When the mavis and merle are singing, 

But merrier were they in Dunfermline gray, 
When all the bells were ringing. 

XVI. 

Just as the minstrel sounds were staid, 

A stranger climbed the steepy glade ; 

His martial step, his stately mien, 

His hunting suit of Lincoln green, 

His eagle glance, remembrance claims — 

'Tis Snowdoun's Knight, 'tis James Fitz- James. 

Ellen beheld as in a dream. 

Then starting, scarce suppressed a scream: 

" O stranger ! in such hour of fear, 

What evil hap has brought thee here?— 

" An evil hap how can it be, 

That bids me look again on thee ? 

By promise bound, my former guide 

Met me betimes this morning tide, 

And marshall'd, over bank and bourne, 

The happy path of my return." — 

" The happy path!— what! said he nought 

Of war, of battle to be fought, 

Of guarded pass ?"— " No, by my faith !'♦ 

Kor saw I aught could augur scathe."— 



Oanto IV, THE PROHPEjCY. 

" Oh haste thee, Allan, to the kerne,— 
Yonder his tartans I discern : — 
Learn Ihou his purpose, and conjure 
That he will guide the stranger sure I— 
What prompted ihee, unhappy man ! 
The meanest serf in Roderick's clan 
Had not been bribed by love or fear, 
Unknown to him, to guide thee here — " 

XVII. 
" Sweet Ellen, dear my life must be. 
Since it is worthy care from thee ; 
Yet life I hold but idle bieath, 
When love or honor's weighed with death •. 
Then let me profit by my chance, 
And speak ray purpose bold at once, 
I come to bear iliee from a wild, 
Where ne'er before such blossom smiled ; 
By this soft hand to lead thee far 
From frantic scenes of fead and war. 
Near Bochastle my horses wait ; 
They bear us soon to Stirling gate. 
I'll place ihee in a lovely bower, 
I'll guard Ihee like a tender flower." 
*' O I hush. Sir Knight ! 'twere female art, 
To say I do not read thy heart ; 
Too much, before, niy selfish ear 
Was joly soothed my praise to hear. 
Tliatfaial baithith lu:ed ihee back. 
In dealhful hiiur, o'er daiigercus track; 
And h'jw, O how , can 1 atone 
The vvieck my vanity brought on ! 
One way remoi.is— I'll lell him all- 
Yes ! struggliii;: bosom forth itshall: 
T'.jou, whose light folly bears the blame, 
Buy thine own pardon with thy shame ! 
But first— my father is a man 
Outlawed aud exiled, under ban, ; 



94 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto IV 

The price of blood is on his head, 
With me 'twere infamy to wed — 
Still would'st thus speak ? then hear the truth ! 
Fitz-James, there is a noble youth, — 
If yet he is ! — exposed for me 
And mine to dread extremi'y. 
Thou hast the secret of my heart ; 
Forgive, be generous, and depart." — 

XVIII. 
Fitz-James knew every wily train 
A lady's fickle heart to gain, 
But here he knew and felt them vain. 
There shot no glance from Ellen's eye, 
To give her steadfast speech the lie ; 
In maiden confidence she stood, 
Though mantled in her cheek the blood, 
And told her love with such a sigh 
Of deep and hopeless agony, 
A3 death had sealed her Malcolm's doom. 
And she sat sorrowing on his tomb. 
Hope vanished from Fitz- James's eye, 
But not with hope fled sympathy. 
He proffered to attend her side, 
As brother would a sister guide.— 
" O ! little know'st thou Roderick's heart ! 
Safer for both we go apart. 
O haste thee, and from Allan learn, 
If thou may'st trust yon wily kerne." — 
With hand upon his forehead laid, 
The conflict of his mind to shade, 
A parting step or two he made ; 
Then, as some thought had crossed his brain 
He paused, and turned, aitd came again. 

XIX. 
" Hear, lady , yet a parting word ! 
It chanced in fight that my poor sword 
Preserved the life of Scotland's lofd. 



Canto III. THE PROPHECY. 

This ring the grateful Monaichgave, 
And bade, when I had boon to crave, 
To bring it bacls, and boldly claim 
The recompense that I would name. 
Ellen, I am no courtly loid, 
But one who lives by lance and sword, 
Whose castle is his helm and shield , 
His lordship, the embattled field. 
What from a prince can I demand, 
Who neither reck; of state nor land ? 
Ellen, thy hand— the ring is thine ; 
Each guard and usher knows the sign. 
Seek thou the king without delay, 
The signet shall secure thy way ; 
And claim thy suit, whatever it be, 
As ransom of his pledge to me." 
He placed the golden circle on, 
Paused— kissed her hand— and then was gone. 
The aged minstrel stood aghast, 
So hastily Fitz James shot past. 
He joined his guide, and wending down 
The ridges of the mountain brown, 
Across the stream they took their way, 
That joins Loch-Katrine to Achray. 

XX. 
All in the Trosach's glen was still, 
Noontide was sleeping on the hill : 
Sudden his guide whooped loud and high— 
" Murdoch I was that a signal cry ?'' 
He stammered forth,—" I shout to scar 
Yon raven from his dainty fare.'' 
He looked— he knew tlie raven's prey, 
His own brave steed:—" Ah I gallant gray I 
For thee, for me, perchance — 'twere well 
Had we ne'er seen the Trosach's dell.— . 
Murdoch, move first— but silently ; 
"Whistle or whoop, and thou shalt djje.'' — 
Jenlous and sullen on they fared, 
Eadli silent, each upon his guard. 



96 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto IV. 

XXI. 

Now wound the path its dizzy ledge 

Around a pjecipice's edge, 

When lo ! a wasted fiemale form, 

Bligliled by wrath of sun and storm, 

In tattered weeds and wild array. 

Stood on a cliff beside the way, 

And glancing round her restless eye. 

Upon the wood, iherock, the sky, 

Seemed nought to ma.k, yet all to spy. 

Her brow was wreathed with gaudy broom ; 

With gesture wild she waved a plume 

Of featheis, wliich the engles fling 

To crag and cliff from dusky wing ; 

Such spoils her desperate step had sought, 

Where scarce was fooling for the goat. 

The tartnn plaid she first descried, 

And shrieked, till all the rocks replied ; 

As loud she laughed when near they drew, 

For then the lowland garb she knew ; 

And then her hands she wildly rung, 

And then she swept, and tiien she sung. — 

She sung I— the voice, in better time, 

Perhance to harp or lute might chime; 

And now, though strained and roughened, still, 

Rung wildly sweet to dale and hill. 

xxn. 

SONG. 
They bid me sleep, they bid me'pray, 

Th'^y s '.y my brain is warped and wrung — 
I cannot sleep on highland brae, 

I c:innot pray, in highland tongue. 
But were I now wlie: e Ail.m glides. 
Or heavd my na*,ive Deven's tides, 
So sweetly would I rest, and pray 
That Heaven would close my wintry day '. 



C?anto IV. THE PROPHECY. 97 

'Twas thug my hair they bade me braid, 

They bade me to the church repair ; 
It was my bridal mom they said, 

And my true love would meet me there. 
But wo betide the cruel guile, 
That drowned in blood the morning smile ! 
And wo betide the fairy dream ! 
I only waked to sob and scream. 

XXIII. 
*' Who is this maid ? what means her lay I 
She hovers o'er the hollow way, 
And flutters wide her mantle gray. 
As the lone heron spreads his wing, 
By twilight o'er a haunted spring." — 
"Tis Blanche of Devan,'' Murdoch said, 
" A crazed and captive lowland maid, 
Ta'en on the morn she was a bride, 
When Roderick forayed Devan-side. ' 

The gay bridegroom resistance made. 
And felt our chief's unconquered blade. 
I marvel she is now at large, 
IJut oft she 'scapes from Maudlin's charge. — 
Hence, brain-sick fool !''— He raised his bow :— 
•' Now, if thou strickest her but one blow, 
I'll pitch thfe from the clifTas far 
As ever peasant pitched a bar." — 
•' Thinki, champion, thanks I" the Maniac cried, 
And pressed her to Fiiz-James's side. 
" See the gray pennons I prepare, 
To seek my true-love through the air ! 
I will not lend that savage groom. 
To break his fall, one downy plume I 
No !— deep amid disjointed stones, 
The wolves shall batten on his bones. 
And then shall his detested plaid, 
By bush and briar in mid air staid. 
Wave foilh a banner fair and free, 
Meet signal for their reveky."— 

8 



98 LADY OF THE LAip. Caiito IV. 

XXIV. 
"Hush tkee, poor maiden, and be still !'' 
" O ! thou look'st kindly, and I will.— 
Mine eye has dried and wasted been. 
But still it love.-i the Lincoln green ; 
And, though mine ear is ail un^tiung, 
Still, still it loves the lowland tongue. 
For O ipy sweet William was forester true, 

He stole poor Blanche's heart away ! 
His coat was all of the greenword hue, 

And so blithely he trilled the Lwland lay !— 
1 1 was not that I meant to tell- 
But thou art wise, and guessest W611.''— 
Then, in a low and broken tone. 
And Imnied note, the song went oh. 
Still on the clansmen, fearfully, 
She fixed her apprehensive eye ; 
Thf n turned it on the Knight, and then 
Her look glanced wildly o'er the glen. 

XXV. 
The toils are pitched, and the stakes art set, 

Ever sing merrily, merrily : 
The bow3 they bend, and ihe knives they whet. 

Hunters live so cheerily. 
It was a stig, a stag often,* 

Bearing his branches sturdily ; 
Hecame stately down the glen, 

Ever sing hardily, hardily. 
It was there he met with a wounded doe ; 

She was bleeding deathf'ully; 
She warned hi m of the toils belov/i 

O so faithfully, faithfully ! 
He had an eye, and he could heed, 

Ever sing wa'ily, warily ; 
He had a foot, and he could speed — 

Hunters watch so narrowly. 
* Having ten branches on his antlers. 



Canto IV. THE PROPHECY. 

XXVI. 

Fitz James's mind was passior. toss'd, 
When Ellen's hints and fears were Io3t ; 
But Murdoch's shout suspicion wrought, 
And Blanche's song conviction brought. — 
Not like tlie stag that spies the snare, 
But lion of tile hunt aware, 
He waved at once liis blade on high, 
" Disclose thy treachery, or die !''— 
Forth at full speed the Clansman flew, 
But in his race his how he drew. 
The shaft just grazed FitzJames's crest. 
And thrilled in IManche's faded bieast. 
Murdoch of Alpine! prove thy spted, 
For ne'er had Alpine's son such need .' 
'vViih heart of fire, and foot of wind, 
The fierce avenger is behind .' 
Fate judges of the rapid strife— 
The forfeit, death— the prize is life I 
Thy kindred ambush lies before, 
Close couched upon a heathery moor; 
Them couldst thou reach !— it nny not be. 
Thine ambushed kin thou ne'er shalt see. 
The fiery Saxon gains on ihee ! 
Eesistless speeds the deadly thrust, 
As lightning strikes the pine to dust ; 
With foot and hand Fitz-Jamej must strain, 
Ere he can win his blade again. 
Bent o'er the (alien, with falcon eye. 
He grimly smiled to see him d.e ; 
Then slower wended back his way, 
Wheie the poor maiden bleeding lay. 

XXVII. 
She sate beneath the birchen tree. 
Her elbow resting on her knee ; 
She had withdrawn the fatal shaft. 
And gazed on it, and feebly laugh'd ; 



100 LADT OP THE LAKE. Canto IV. 

Her wreath of broom and feathers gray, 
Daggled with blood, beside her lay. 
The Knight to stanch the life-stream tried. 
*' Stranger, it is in vain !" she cried. 
*' This hour of death has given me more 
Of reason's power than years before; 
For, as these ebbing veins decay, 
My frenzied visions fade away. 
A helpless injured wretch 1 die, 
And something tells me in thine eye, 
That thou wert my avenger born. — 
Seest thou this tress ?— O ! still I've worn 
This little tres3 of yellow hair. 
Through danger, frenzy, and despair! 
It once was brigijt and clear as thine, 
But blood and tears have dimmed its shine. 
I V ill not tell thee when 'twas shred, 
Nor from what guiltless victim's head — 
My brain would turn!— but it shall wave 
Like plumage on thy helmet brave, 
Till sun and wind shall bleach the stain, 
And thou wilt bring it me again. — 
I waver still !— O God ! more bright 
Let Reason beam her parting light ! — 
O ! by thy knighthood's honoured sign, 
And for thy life preserved by mine, 
When thou shalt see a daiksome man. 
Who boasts him Chief of Alpine's clan, 
With tartans broad, and shadowy plume, 
And hand of blood, and brow of gloom, 
Be thy heart bold, thy weapon strong, 
And wreak poor Blanche of Devan's wrong, 
They watch for thee by pass and fell- 
Avoid the path— O God !— farewell." 

XXVIIL 
A kindly heart had brave Fitz-James ; 
Fast poured his eye at pity's claims. 
And now, with mingled grief and ire, 
He saw the murdered noaid axpire. 



Canto IV. THE PROPflECY. 101 

" God, in my need, be my relief. 
As 1 wreak this on yoniiei' Chief!" — 
A lock from Blanche's tresses fair 
He blended with her bridegroom's hair j 
The mingled braid in blood he died, 
And placed it on his bonnet side; 
•' By Him whose word is truth ! I swear. 
No oilier favour will I wear. 
Till this sad token I imbrue 
In the best blood of Roderick Dhu !— 
But hark ! what mean-5 yon faint halloo? 
The chase is up,— but they shall know, 
The stag at bay's a dangerous foe." — 
Barr'd from the known but guarded way. 
Through copse and cliffi Filz James must stray, 
And oft must change his desperate track, 
By stieam and precipice turned back. 
Heartless, fatigued, and faint, at length, 
From lack of food and loss of strength, 
He couched him in a thicket hoar. 
And thought his toils and perils o'er j— 
" Of all my rash adventures past, 
This frantic feat will prove the last ! 
Who e'er so njad but might have guess'd. 
That all this highland hornet's nest 
Would muster up in swarms so soon 
As e'er they heard of bands at Doune 1 
Like bloodhounds now they search me out,— 
Hark ! to the whistle and the shout !— 
If further through the wilds I go, 
I only fall upon the foe : 
I'll couch me here till evening gray, 
Then darkling try my dangerous way.'' — 

XXIX. 

The shades ofeve come slowly down, 
The woods are wrapped in deeper brown, 

8« 



109 LADY OF THE LAKE. CmitoV. 

The owl awakens from her dell, 
The fi)X is hea.d upon llie fell ; 
Enough reiniiiis oiglimmerini; light 
To guide the wanderer's steps arij;ht. 
Yet not enough fioni fa ■ to show 
His figure to llie watchful foe. 
With cautious step, and ear awake, 
He clnnbs the crag and threads tlie brake: 
And not ihe summer solstice thert, 
•"Tbinpet'd the midnight mountain air, 
Bui every breeze, that swept the wold, 
Btinumbed his dieiiehed limbs with cold. 
In dread, in danger, and alone, 
lamishtdand chilled, through ways unknown ; 
Tangled and steep, hejuurnb3ed on ; 
1 ill, as a lock's huge point he turned, 
A watch-flie close before hiiu burued. 

XXX. 

Besides its embers red and clear, 

BashCd, in his plaid, a mouiitameer ; 

And up he sp;ung with swoidui hand, — 

" Tliy name and ^urpose ! tfaxon, stand !"— 

" A stranger." — " Whit do?t thou require?" — 

<' Kest and a guide, and food and fire. 

My life's beset, my path is lost, 

The gale has chilled my limbs with frost.'' — 

" Art thou a friend to lloderick ?" — '* J\o."— 

"Thou daiest not cail thyself a foe ?'' — 

" 1 dare ! tu him and all ihe band 

He brings to aid the mu.deioushand.-' — 

" Bold words!— but, though the beast of game 

The privdege of chase may claim, 

Though space and law the stag we lend, 

Ere hound we slip, or bow we bend. 

Who ever leck'd, where, how, or when, 

The prowling fox waa trapped or •lain f 



Canro V. THE PROPHECY. 103 

Thus treacherous scouts,— yet sure they lie, 
Who say ihou earnest a secret spy !■' 
They do, by iieueii !— Come Roderick Dhu, 
And of his clan the boldest two, 
And let me but till morning lest ' 
I wiite'Jie ralselKio:lon their crest," — 
" If by the blaze I ni.uk aright, 
Thcu bear'st the belt and sj ur of Knight." 
•' Then, by these tokens niajst thou know, 
Each ptOLul oppressor's mortal fee." — 
" Enou;'i, enough ; sit down and share 
Afroldier's couch, a soldier's faie.'' — 

xxxr. 

He gnve him of his Ii!ghl;ii:d chf^er, 
Thii hardened flesh of mountain deer; 
Dry fuel on tlie lire he laid, 
And batJe the S;.xo»'sha;e liis plaid ; 
He tended him like welcome guest, 
Then thus bis further speech addiessed : 
" Stranger, I am to Roderick Dhu, 
A clansman born, a kinsman true : 
Each word against his honour s-poke 
Demands of me avengini? stroke; 
Yet more, — upon thy fate, 'tis said, 
A mighty augury is laid. 
It rests witli ine to wind my horn, — 
Thou art wiih numbers overborne ; 
It rests wiih me, here, brand lo brand, 
Worn as thon arl, to bid thee stand ; 
But, nor for clan, nor kind.ed's cause, 
Will I depart from honours laws : 
To assail a weary man were shame. 
And stranger is a huly name ; 
Guidanfe and rest, and fjod and fire, 
In vain he never must require. 
Then rest thee Ixere till dawn of day, 
Myself will guide tliee on the way, 



104 LADY OF THE LAKE, Canto IT 

O'er stock and stone, through waich and ward, 

Till p'?t Clan Alpine's outmost guard, 

As far i. - Coilantogle's ford ; 

From thence thy warrant is thy sword.'* — 

*' I take thy courtesy, by Heaven, 

As freely as 'tis nobly given !'" — 

" Well, rest thee ; for the bittern's cry 

Sings us the lake's wild lullaby.'' — 

With that he took the gather'd heath, 

And spread his plaid upon the wreath ; 

A.iJ the brave foemen, side by side, 

Lay ->eaceful down, like brothers tried, 

And slept until the dawning beam 

Puipled tlie mountain and the stream. 

END OF CAKTOi'OLiiTH. 



THE 

LADY OF THE LAKE. 

CANTO FIFTH, 



THE COMBAT. 

I. 

FAIR as the earliest beam of eastern light, 

When first, by the bewildered pilgrim spied, 
It smiles upon ihe dreary brow of night, 

And silvers o'er the torrent'sfoaming tide, 
And lights the fearful path on mountain side , — 

Fair as that beam, although the fairest far, 
Giving to horror grace, to danger pride, 

Shine martial Faith, and Couitesys bright star, 
Through all the wreckful storms that cloud the brow 
of War. 

II. 
That early beam, so fair and sheen, 
Was twinkling through the hazel screen, 
When rousing at its glimmer red, 
The warriors left their lowly bed. 
Looked out upon the dappled sky, 
Muttered their soldier matins by, 
And then awaked their fire, to steal, 
As short and rude, their soldier meal. 
That o'er, the Gael* around him threw 
His grateful plaid of varifd hue. 
And. true to promise, led the way, 
By thicket green and mountain gray. 

* The Scottish Highlander callshimself Oael^ or Gatil, 
and terms the i,owlandeis,Sa5scnacA, or Saxons. 



105 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto V. 

A wHdering path !— they winded now 
Along the pier i pice's brow, 
Cominandisig the rich scenes beneath, 
The windings of the Forth andTeith, 
And all the vales between that lie, 
Till Stirling's turrets melt in sky ; 
Then, sunk in copse, their furthest glance 
Gained not the lengtii of horsemen's lance, 
'Twas oft so steep, the foot was lain 
Assistance from the hand to gain : 
So tangled oft, that, bursting through. 
Each hawthorn shed her showers of dew, — 
That diamond dew, so pure and clear. 
It rivals all but Beauty's tear '. 

III. 
At length they came where stern and steepj 
The hill sinks down upon the deep ; 
HereVennachar in silver flovv's. 
There ridge, on ride, Benledi rose. 
Ever the hollow path twined on, 
Beneath steep bank and threatening stone; ' 
A hundred men might hold the post 
With hirdihood against a host. 
The rugged mountain s scanty cloak 
Was dwarfish jhrubs of birch and oak, 
With shingles bare, and cliffs between, 
And patches bright of bracken green, 
And heather black, that waved so high, 
It held the copse in rivalry. 
But where the lakesleptdeep and still. 
Dank osiers fringed the swamp and hill ; 
And oft both path and hill were torn. 
Where wintry torrent down had borne.. 
And heaped upon the cumbered land. 
Its wreck of gravel, rocks, and sand. 
So toilsome was the road to trace, 
The guide, abating of his pace. 



Canto V. THE COMBAT. jor 

Let slowly througli the pass's jaws, 
And asked Fitz-James, by what strange cause 
He sought these wilds : Iraversefl by few, 
Without a pass from Roderick Dhu ? 

IV. 

*' Brave Gael, my pass, in danger tried, 
Hangs in my belt, and by my side ; 
Yet, sooth to te',1," the Saxon said, 
" I dreamed not now to claim its aid. 
Wheh here, but ihiee days' since, I came, 
Bewilderel iii pursuit of game, 
Ail seemed as peaceful and as still, 
As the mist slumbering on yon hill : 
Thy dangerous chief was then afar, 
Nor soon expelled back fiom war. 
Thus said, at least, my mountain guide. 
Though deep, perchance, the villain licd.'» 
*' Yet why a second venture try ?"— 
'' A warrior thou, and ask me why I — 
Moves our free course by such fixed cause, 
As gives ihe poor mechanic laws ? 
Enough, I sought io drive away 
The lazy iiouis of peaceful day ; 
Slight cause will then snflice to guide 
A knight's free footsteps far and wide ; 
A faliion flown, a grayhound strayed. 
The merry glance of mountain maid ; 
Or, if a path be dangerous known, 
Tile dingers" self is lure alone." — 

V, ^ 

Thy secret keep, I urge thee nol : 
Yet, ere again ye sought this spot, 
6^ay, heard ye nought of lowland war, 
Against Clan Alpine raised by Mar ?" — 
" No, by my word ;— of bands prepared 
To guard King James's sports I heard ; 



lOS LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto V. 

Nor doubt I aught, that when they hear 
This muster of the mountaineer, 
Their pennons will abroad be flung, 
Which else in Doune had peaceful hung.'' 
" F.ee be they flung !— for we were loth 
Their silken folds should feast the moth. 
Free be they flung !— as free shall wave 
Clan-Alpine's pine in banner brave. 
But, stranger, peaceful since you came 
Bewildered in the mountain game, 
Whence the bold boast by which you show 
Which-Alpine's vowed and mortal foe?" — 
" Warrior, but yester-morn, I knew 
Nought of thy Chieftain, Roderick Dhu, 
Save as an exiled desperate man, 
The chief of a rebellious clan, 
Who, in the Regent's court and sight, 
With ruffian dagger stabbed a knight, 
Yet this alone might from his part 
Sever each true and loyal heart.'' 

VL 
Wrnthful at such arraignment foul, 
Dark lowered the clansman's sable scowl, 
A space he paused, then sternly said, — 
"And heardst thou why he drew his blade? 
Heardst thou thnt shameful word and blow 
Brought Roderick's vengeance on his foe? 
What reck'd the Chiefuiin, if he stood 
On highland heath, or Holy-Rood? 
He rights such wrong where it is given, 
If it were in the court of heaven. ' 
" Still was it outrage ;— yet, 'tis true, 
Not then claimed sovereignty his duej 
While Albany, with feeble hund , 
Held borrowed truncheon of command, 
The young King, mew'd in Stirling tower, 
Was stranger to respect and power. 



Canto V. THE COMBAT. 109 

But then, thy Chieftain's robt)cr life !— 
Winning mean prey by causeless strife, 
Wrenching from ruin'd lowland swain 
His herds and harvest reared in vain,— 
Methinl?s a soul, like tliine, should scorn 
The spoils from such foul foray borne." — 
The Gael beheld him grim the while, 
And answered with disdainful smile,^ 
" Saxon, from yonder mountain high, 
I marked thee send delighted eye. 
Far to the south and east, where lay, 

t Extended in succession gay, 

Deep waving fields and pastures green, 
With gentle slopes and groves between 
These fertile plains, that softened vale, 
Were once the birthright of the Gael; 
The stranger came with iron hand. 
And from our fathers reft the land. 
Where dwell we now ! See rudely swell 
Crag over crag, and fell o'er fell. 
As we this savage hill we tread. 
For fattened steer or household bread ; 
Ask we for flocks these shingles dry, 
And well the mountain might reply^ — 
' To you, as to your sires of yore. 
Belong the target and claymore 1 
I give you shelfer in my breast. 
Your own good blades must win the rest.'— 
Pent in this fortress of the North, 
Think"st thou we will not sally forth, 
To spoil the spoiler as we may. 
And from the robber rend, ihe prey .' 
Ay, by my soul !— While on yon plain 
The Saxon rears one shock of grain ; 
While, of ten thousand herds, there strays 
But one along yon river's maze, 
The Gael, of plain and river heir, 
Shall, with strong hand, redeem his share. 
9 



110 L \r)Y OF THE LAKE. Canto IT, 

Where live the mountain chiefs who hold, 
That plundering lowland field and fold, 
Is aught but retribution true? 
Seek other cause 'gainst Roderick Dhu.* 

VIII. 
Answered Fitz-James, — "And, if I sought, 
Think'st lliou no other could he b:\night? 
What deemed ye of my path wayluid, 
My life given o'er to Jimbuscnde?" — 
"As of a maed to rashness due; 
Had^t thou sent warning fair and true, — 
T seek uiy liound, or falcon strayed, 
I seek, iio^d taith, a highland miid, — 
Free liadst thou beeh to come and go- 
But secret path marks secret foe. 
Nor yet, for this, even as a. spy, 
Hadit thou, unheard, been doomed to die, 
Save to fulfil an augury." — 
'•Well, let it pass; nor will I now 
Fresh cause of enmity avow, 
To chase thy mood and cloud thy brow 
Enout;h, I am by promise tied 
To match me with this man of pride : 
Twice have I sought Clan-Alpine's gler» 
In peace; but when I come agen, 
I come with banner, brand, an J bow, 
As leader seeks his mortal fne. 
For lovelorn swain, in lady's bower, 
Ke'er panted for the appointed hour, 
As I, until before me stand 
This rebel Chieftain and his band."— 

IX. 
" Have, then, thy wish f" he whistled shrill, 
And he was answered from the hill j 
Wild as the scream of the curlew, 
From crag to crag the signal flew. 



OaotoV. THE COMBAT, lU 

Instant, through copse and heath, arose 

Bonnets and spears and bended bows; 

On right, on left, above, below, 

Sprung up at once the lurking foe ; 

From shingles gray tlieir lances start, 

Tiie bracken bush sends forth the dart, 

The rushes and the willow-wand 

Are biisUing into axe and brand, 

And every tuft of broom gives life 

To plaided warrior armed for strife. 

That whistle g irrisoud the glen 

At once with (uli five hundred men, 

As if ths yawning hill to heaven 

A subterranean h.ist had given. 

Watching their leader's Leek and will. 

All silent there they stood md still ; 

Lriie the loose c;ags whase threat'ning masa 

Lay tottering o'er the hollow pass, 

As if an infant's touch coi.!d urt;e 

Their iieulo! g lassigedown the verge, 
With s;ep and weapon fbrwaul Hung, 

Upon th= nicuntain side ihey hung. 

1 he mountaineer cast g.ance of pride 

Along Beledis living side, 

Then fixed his eye and sable brow 

Full on Kitz James—" How say'st thou now? 

These are Clan-Alpine's warriors true; 

And, Saxon.— I am Roderick Dhu I" 

X. 
Fitz-James was brave; — Though to his heart 
The life blood thrilled with sudden start, 
He mann'd himself with dauntless air, 
Return'd the chief his haughty stare, 
His back against a rock he bore. 
And firmly placed his foot before ; 
" Come one, come all! this rock shall fly 
From its Ilrm base as soon as I." — 



112 LADT OF THE LAKE, Canto V. 

Sir Roderick marked—and in his eyes 
Respect was mingled witli surprise, 
And tlie stern joy whicli warriors feel 
In foemen woriliy of tlieir steel. 
Short space he stood— then waved his hand- 
Down sunk the disappearing band ; 
Eacli warrior vanislied where he stood. 
In broom or bracken, lieath or wood , 
Sunk brand and spear and bendeil bow, 
In osiers pale and copses low ; 
It seemed as if their motlier Earth 
Had swallowed up her warlike birth. 
The winu's last breath had tossed in air, 
Pennon, and plaid, and plumage fair, — 
The next but swept a lone hill side, 
Where heath and fern were waving wide ; 
The sun's last glance was glinted back 
From lance and glaive, from targe and jack,— 
The next, all unretiected, shone 
On bracken green, and cold gray stone. 

XI. 

Fit:i-Jame3 looked round— yet scarce believed 
The witness that his siglit received ; 
Such apparition well might seem 
Delusion of a dreadful dream. 
Sir Roderick in suspense he eyed, 
And to his look the Chief replied, 
"Fear nought— nay, that 1 need not say- 
But doubt not aught from mine array. 
Thou art ray guest ; I plodg'd my word 
As far as Coilantogle ford : 
Nor would 1 call a clansman's brand 
For aid against ono valiant hand, 
Though on our strife lay every vale 
Rent by the Saxon from the Gael. 



Canto V. THE COMBAT, l^ 

So mova we on ; I only meant 
To show the reed on which you leant, 
Deeming this path you might pursue 
Without a pass frona Roderick Dhu." 
They moved.— I said Fitz-James was brav« 
As ever knig^it tliat belted glaive ; 
Yet dare not say, that now his blood 
Kept on its wont and tempered flood, 
As following Roderick's stride, he drew 
That seeming- lonesome pathway through, 
Which yet, by fearful proof, was rife 
With lances, that to take his life 
Waited but signal from a guide, 
So late dishonoured and defied. 
Ever, by .'-aealth, his eye sought round 
The vanished guardians of the ground, 
And still from copse and heather deep. 
Fancy saw spear and broadsword peep, 
And in the plover's shrilly strain, 
The signal whistle heard again. 
Nor breathed he free till far behind 
Thn pass was left : for then they wind 
Along a wide and level green, 
Where neither tree nor tuft was seen, 
.No rush, nor bush of broom was near, 
To hide a bonnet or a spear. 

XII. 

The chief in silence strode before, 
And reached that torrent's sounding shore, 
Which, daughter of three mighty lakes, 
From "Vennachar in silver breaks, 
Sweeps through the plain, and ceaseless mine» 
On Bochastle the mouldering lines, 
Where Rome the Empress of the world, 
<X>fyore her eagle wings unfurl'd. 

9» 



114 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto V. 

And here his course the Chieftain staid, 
Threw down hia target and his plaid, 
And to the lowland warrior said :— 
♦' Bold Saxon ! to his promise just, 
Vich- Alpine has discharged his trust. 
This murderous chief, this ruthless man, 
This head of a rebellious clan, 
Hath led thee safe, through watch and ward, 
Far past Clan-Alpine's outmost guard. 
Now, njan to man, and steel to steel, 
A chieftain's vengeance thou shall feel. 
See, here, all vantageless I stand. 
Armed, like thyself, with single brand ; 
For this is Coilantogle ford. 
And thou must keep thee with thy sword. " 

XI IL 
The Saxon paused:—" I ne'er delayed, 
When foeman bade me draw my blade ; 
Kay more, brave Chief, I vow'd thydeath : 
Yet sure thy fair and generous faith, 
And my deep debt for life preserved, 
A better meed have well deserv'd j 
Can nought but blood our feud atone ! 
Are there no means ?" "No, stranger, non» ! 
And hear,— to flre thy flagging zeal,— 
The Saxon cause rests on thy steel ; 
For thus spoke Fate by prophet bred 
Between the living and the dead 
" Who spills the foremost foeman's life, 
Hia party conquers in the strife."— 
" Then, by my word," the Saxon said, 
" The riddle is already read. 
" Seek yonder brake beneath the cliff, 
There lies Red Murdoch, stark and stiff. 
Thus Fate has solved her prophecy, 
Tiien yield to Fate, and not to mo. 



Canto V. THE COMBAT, 116 

To James, at Stirling, let us go. 
When, if thou wilt be still his ftw, 
Or if the King shsU not agree 
To grant thee grace and favour free, 
1 plight mine honour, oath, and word. 
That, to thy native strengtlia restored, 
With each advantage shalt thou stand, 
That aids thee now to guard thy land." — 

XIV. 

Dark lightning flashed from Roderick's eye— 

" Soars thy presumption, then, so high, 

Because a wretched kerne ye slew. 

Homage to name to Roderick Dhu 1 

He yields not, he, to man nor Fate ! 

Thou add'st but fuel to my hate :— 

My clansman's blood demands revenge.— 

Nor yet prepared ?— By heaven, I change 

My thouglit, and hold thy valour light 

As that of some vain carpet knight, 

Who ill deserved my courteous care, 

And whose best boast is but to wear 

A braid of his fair lady's hair." — 

— " J thank thee, Roderick, for the word ; 

It nerves my heart, it steels my sword » 

For I have sworn this braid to stain 

In the best blood that warms thy vein, 

Now, truce, farewell ! and ruih, be gone I— 

Yet think not that by thee alone, 

Proud Chief I can courtesy be shown ) 

Though not from copse, or heath, or cairn, 

Start at my whistle clansmen stern, 

Of this small horn one feeble blast 

Would fearful odds against the« cast. 

But fear not— doubt no I— which thou wilt, 

We try ihla quarrel, hiU to hilt."— 



iie LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto V. 

Then each at once his falchion drew, 
Each on tlie ground liis scabbard threw, 
£ach looked to sun, and stream, and plain. 
As what they ne'er might see again ; 
Then, foot, and point, and eye opposed, 
In dubious strife they darkly closed, 

XV. 
Ill fared it then with Roderick Dhu, 
That on the field liis targe he threw, 
Whose brazen studs and tough bull-hide 
Had death so often dashed aside; 
For, trained abroad his arms to wield, 
Fitz- James's blade was sword and shield, 
He practised every pass and ward, 
To thrust, to strike, to feint, to guard ; 
While less expert, though stronger far. 
The Gael maintained unequal war. 
Three limes in closing strife they stood, 
And thrice the Saxon sword drank blood j 
No stinted draught, no scanty tide, 
The gushing flood the tartans died. 
Fierce Roderick felt the fatal drain, 
And showered his blows like wintry rain j 
And, as firm rock, or castle-roof, 
Against the winter shower is proof, 
The foe invulnerable still 
Foiled his wild rage by steady skill ; 
Till, at advantage ta'en, his brand 
Forced Roderick's weapon from his hand, 
And, backwards borne upon the lee, 
Brought the proud Chieftain to his knee. 

XVI. 
■<' Now, yield thee, or, by Him who made 
The world, thy heart's blood dies my blade !** 
*' TI\v threats, thy mercy, I defy t 
IjBt recreant yield who fears lo die."— 



Canto V. THE OOMBAT. 117 

Like adder darting from^is coil, 
Like wolf that dashes through the toll. 
Like mountain-cat who guards her young, 
Full at Fitz James's throat he sprung, 
Received, but recked not of a wound, 
And locked his arms his foe man round- 
Now, gahant Saxon, hold thine own ! 
No maiden's hand is round thee thrown I 
Tliat desperate grasp thy frame might feel, 
Througli bars of brass and triple steel ! 
They tug, they stiam ;— down, down they go, 
The Gael above, Fitz James below. 
The Chieftain's gripe his throat compressed, 
His knee was planted in his breast ; 
His clotted locks he backward threw, 
Across his brow his liand he drew, 
From blood and mist to clear his sight, 
Then gleam'd aloft his dagger bright !— 
But hate and fury ill supplied 
The stream of life's exhausted tide, 
And all too late the advantage came, 
To turn the odds of deadly game ; 
For while the dagger gleam'd on high, 
Keeled soul and sense, reeled brain and eye. 
Down came the blow ! but in the heath 
The erring blade found bloodless sheath, 
The struggling foe may now unclasp 
The fainting Chief's relaxing grasp ; 
Unwounded from the dreadful close. 
But breathless all, Fitz- James arose . 

XVII. 

He faltered thanks to Heaven for life. 
Redeemed, unhoped, from desperate strife i 
Next on his foe his look he cast, 
Whose every gasp appeared his last ; 



i;-8 LADY OF THE LAKE. Cnnto V. 

In Roderick's gore l)e dipped the braid,— 
•' Poor Blanche I thy wrongs are dearly paid ; 
Yet with thy foe must die, or live, 
The praise that Faith nnd Valour give. •' 
With that he blew a bugle-note, 
Undid the collar from his throat, 
TJn bonneted, and by the wave 
Sate down his brow and hands to lave. 
Then faint afar aie heard the feet 
Of rushing steeds in gallop fleet ; 
The sounds increase, and now are seen 
Four mounted squires in Lincoln green ; 
Two who bejr lance, and two who lead. 
By loo-ened rein, a saddled steed ; 
Each onward held his headlung course, 
And by Fitz-Janies reigned up his h orse,— 
With wonder viewed the bloody spot — 
"Exclaim not, gallants I question not — 
You, Herbeit and Luff.iess alight, 
And bind the wounds of yonder knight ; 
Let the giey palfrey bear his weight, 
We destined for a fairer freinht, 
And bring him on to Stirling straight; 
I will before at belter speed, 
To seek fresh hsrse and fitting weed. 
The sua rides hi;:h •,— I must be boune 
To see the archer gams at noon 5 
But lightly Bayard clears the lea:— 
De Vaux and Merries, follow me. 

XVI n. 
" Stand, P.ayard, stand !"— the steed obeyed, 
With arching neck and bended head, 
And glancing eye, and quivering ear, 
As if he loved hia lord to hear. 
No foot Filz-James in stirrup staid, 
Uo grasp upon the saddle laid. 



Canto V. THE COMBAT. 119 

But wreathed his left hand in the mane, 
And lightly bounded from the plain, 
Turned on the horse his armed heel, 
And stirred his courage with the steel. 
Bounded the fiery steed in air, 
The rider sate erect and fair, 
Then like a bolt from steel cross bow 
Forih launched, alon? the plain tliey go. 
They dashed that rapid torrent through, 
And up Carhonie's hill Ihey flaw ; 
Still at the gallop pricked the knight, 
His merry-men followed as they might. 
Along ihy banks, swift Teilh I they ride, 
And in the race they mock thy tide ; 
Torry and Lendiick no.v are past, 
And Deanslone lies behind them cast. 
They rise, the baanerei towers of Doune, 
They sink in distant woodland soon ; 
Blair-Drummoad sees the hoofs strike fire, 
They sweep like breeze through Ochtertyre 
Thsy mark, just glance, and disappear 
The lofty brow of ancient Kier ; 
They bathe their coursers' swelling sides, 
Dark Forth ! amid thy sluggish tides, 
And on the opposing shore take ground. 
With plash, with scramble, and with bound. 
Right hand ihey leave thy cliffs, Craig-Forth .' 
And soon the bulwaik of the Norih, 
Gray Stirling, with her towers and town, 
Upon their fleet career looked down. 

xrx. 

As up the flinty path they strained, 
Sudden his steed the leader reined; 
A signal to his squire he flung, 
Who instant to hia stirrup sprung : 



VJO LADY OP THE LAKE. Canto V, 

" Seest thou, De Vaux, yon woodman gray 
Who townward liolds the rocky way, 
Of stature tall and poor array ? 
Mark'st thou the firm, yet active stride. 
With which he scales the mountain side ? 
Know'st thou from whence he comes, or whom ?" 
" No, by my word :— a burly groom 
lie seems, who in the field or chase 
A baron's train would nobly grace." — 
" Out, out, De Vaux ! can fear supply, 
And jealousy, no sharper eye ? 
Afar, ere to the hill he drew, 
Thit stately form and step 1 knew ; 
Like form in Scotland is not seen, 
Treads not such step on Scottish green. 
'Tis James of Douglas, by Saint Serle ! 
The uncle of the banished Earl. 
Away, away, to court, to show 
The near approach of dreaded foe ; 
The kinf; must stand upon his guard 5 
Douglas and he must meet prepared."— 
Then ridit hand wheeled their steeds, and straight 
They won the castle's postern gate. 
XX. 

The Douglas, who had bsnt his way 
From Cambus-Kenneth's abbey gray, 
Now, as he climbed the rocky shelf, 
Held sad communion with himself :— 
" Yes ! all is true my fears could frame : 
A prisoner lies the noble Gic-eme, 
And flery Roderick soon will feel 
The vengeance of the royal steel. 
I, only I, can ward their fate, 
God grant the ransom come not late ! 
The abbess hath her promise given. 
My child shiil bj tha bridj of heaven ;— 



Oanto V. ^ THE COMBAT. li!l 

Be pardoned one repining tear ! 
For he, who gave her, knows how dear, 
How excellent— but that is by, 
AnrI now ny business is to die. 
—Ye towers ! within whose circuit dread 
A Douglas by his sovereiirn bled, 
And thon, O sad and fatal mnund !* 
That oft hast beard the death-axe sound, 
As on the noblest of the land 
Fell the stern headsman's bloody hand,— 
Theduncreon, block, and nameless tomb 
Prepare, forDonslas seeks his doom ! 
- But hark ! what blithe and jolly peal 
Makes the Franciscan steeple reel ? 
And see I upon the crowded street. 
In motley croups that masquers meet ! 
Banner and patreant, pipe and drum, 
And merry morrice-dancers come. 
T cness, by all this quaint array. 
The burghers hold their sports to day. 
Tames will be there ; he love^ such show, 
. Where the gnod yeoman bends his bow, 
And ihe touch wrestler foih his foe, 
As well as where, in proud career, 
The high-born tiKer shivers spear. 
I'll follow to the Castle park, 
And p'ay my prizs ; King James shall mark, 
If age has tamed these sinews stark, 
Whose force so oft in happier days, 
His boyish wonder loved to praise." 

XXI. 

The Castle cates were open flunc, 

The quivering drawbridge rocked and rung. 

* An eminence on the northeast of the castle, where 
nnte crimln al« were executed. See Note. 
10 



229 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto V. 

And echoed loud the flinty street, 
Beneath the coursers' clattering feet, 
As slowly down the steep descent 
Fair Scotland's King and nobles went, 
While all along the crowded way 
Was jubilee and loud huzza. 
And ever James was bending low, 
To his white jennet's saddle bow, 
Doffing his cap to city dame, 
Who smiled and blushed for pride and shame. 
And well the simperer might be vain, 
He chose the fairest of the train. 
Gravely he greets each city she, 
Commends each pageant's quaint attire, 
Gives to the dancers thanks aloud, 
And smiles and nods upon the crowd, 
Who rend the heavens with their acclaims, 
Long live the Common's King, King James ? 
Behind the King thronged peer and knight, 
And noble dame and damsel bright. 
Whose fiery steeds ill-brooked the stay 
Of the steep street and crowded way. 
But in the train yon might discern 
Dark lowering brow and visage stern 5 
There nobles mourned their pride restained, 
And the mean burgher's joys disdained j 
And chiefs, who, hostage for their clain, 
Were each from home a banished man. 
There thought upon their own gray tower. 
Their waving woods, their feudal power. 
And deemed themselves a shameful part 
Of pageant which they cursed in heart, 

XXIL 
Now, in the Castle-park drew out 
Their checkered bands the joyous rout. 
Their morricers, with bell at heel. 
And blade in hand, then maaes whee'; 



Canto V. THE COMBAT. 123 

But chief, beside the buts, there stand 
Bold Robin Hood and all his band, 
Friar Tuck with quarter-staff and cowl, 
Old Scathlocke with his surly scowl 
Maid Marian fair as ivory bone, 
Scarlet, and Mutch, and Little John j 
Their bugles challenge all that will, 
In archery to prove their skill. 
The Douglas bent a bow of might,— 
His first shaft centred in the white. 
And when in turn he shot again, 
His second spl it the first in twain. 
From the King's hand must Douglas take 
A silver dart, the archers' stake; 
Fondly he watched with watery eye, 
Some answering glance of sympathy,— 
No kind emotion made reply ! 
Indifferent, as to archer wight. 
The Monarch gave the arrow bright. 

XXIII, 
Now, clear the Ring ! for, hand to hand, 
The manly wrestlers take their stand. 
Two o'er the rest superior rose, 
And proud demanded mightier foes, 
Nor called in vain ; for Douglas came. 
— For Life is Hugh of Larbett lame. 
Scarce better John of Alloa's fare. 
Whom senseless home his comrades bear. 
Prize of the wrestling match, the King 
To Douglas gave a golden ring, 
While eoldly glanced his eye of blue, 
A frozen drop of wintry dew. 
DoHglas would speak, but in his breast 
His struggling soul his words suppress'dj 
Indignant then he turned him where 
Their arms the brawny yeoman bare, 
To burl tlie masaive bar in air . 



Z5M LADV OF THE LAKE. OantoV. 

When eacl) his utmost stiengih had shown, 
The Douglas rent an earth-tast stone 
Ftoai its (Jeep bed, then heaved it high, 
And sent the fragment through the sky, 
A rood beyond the farthest mark ; — 
And still iiiStirUng's royal park, 
The gray -haired sires, who know the past, 
To strangers point the Douglas cast, 
And moralize on the decay 
Of Scottish strength in modern day, 

XXIV. 
The vale with loud applauses rang, 
The Ladies' Eock sent back the clang, 
The king, with look unmoved, bestowed 
A purse well filled with pieces broad. 
Indignant smiled the Douglas proud, 
And threw the gold among the crowd, 
Who now, with anxious wonder, scan, 
And sharper glance the dark grey man ; 
Till whispers rose among the throng 
That heart so free and hand so strong, 
Must to the Douglas blood belong ; 
The old men maik'd, and shook the head, 
To see his Iiair with silver spread, 
And winked aside and told each son 
Of feats upon the English done, 
Ere Douglas of the Stalwart hand 
Was exiled from his native land. 
The women praised his stately form, 
Though wreck'd by many a wintry storm ; 
The youth with awe and wonder saw 
His strength surpassing nature's law. 
Thus judged as is their wont, the crowd, 
Till murmurs rose to clamours loud. 
Bui not a glance from that proud rhig 
Of peers who circled round the King, 



Canto V. THE COMBAT. 125 

Or called the banished man to mind ; 
N Oj not from those who, at the chase, 
Once held his side the honoured place, 
Regirt his board, and in the field, 
Found safety underneath his shield j 
For he, whom royal eyes disown, 
When was his form to courtiers known ? 

XXV. 
The Monarch saw the gambols flag, 
And bade let loose a gallant stag, 
Whose pride, the holyday to crown, 
Two fcivourite gray-hounds should pull down, 
That venison free, and Bordeaux wine, 
Might serve the archery to dine. 
But Lufra,— whom from Douglas'side 
Nor bribe nor threat could ne'er divide, 
The fleetest hound in all the North,— 
Brave Lufra saw, and darted forth. 
She left the royal hounds midway, 
And dashing on the antler'd prey ; 
Sunk her sharp muzzle in his flank. 
And deep the flowiag life-blood drank. 
The King's stout huntsman saw the sport 
jBy strange intruder broken short, 
Came up, and with his leash unbound 
In anger struck !he noble hrund. 
—The Douglas had endured, that morn, 
The King's cold look, the nobles' scorn, 
And last, ar.d worst to spirit proud, 
Had borne the pity of the crovvd; 
But Lufra liad been fondly bred, 
To share his board, to watch his bed. 
And oft would Ellen, Lufra's neck, 
Jn maiden glee, with garlands deck ; 
They .were such play-mates, that with namjs 
Pf J^ufra Ellen's image came. 

10* 



196 -LADT OF THE LAKE. Canto V. 

His stifled wrath is brimming high, 
In darkened brow and flashing eye ; 
As waves before the bark divide, 
The crowd gave way before his stride ; 
Needs but a buffet and no more, 
The groom lies senseless in his gore. 
Such blow no other hand could deal, 
Though guantleted in glove of steel. 

XXVI. 

Clamoured his comrades of the train, 
And brandished swords and staves amain. 
But stern the Baron's warning— "Back ! 
Back on your lives, ye menial pack ! 
Beware the Douglas.— Yes ! behold, 
King James, the Douglas, doomed of old, 
And vainly sought for near and far, 
A victim to atone the war, 
A willing victim, now attends, 
Nor craves thy grace but for his friends." 
— " Thus is my clemency repaid, 
Presumptuous Lord !" the Monarch said ; 
" Of thy mis-proud ambitious clan. 
Thou, James of Bothwell, wert the man, 
The only man, in whom a foe 
My woman-mercy would not know. 
But shall a Monarch's presence brook 
Injurious blow, and haughty look f 
What ho ! The Captain of our Guard .' 
Give the offender fitting ward.— 
Break off the sports !"— he said, and frowned, 
" And bid our horsemen clear the ground."— 
XXVII. 

Then uproar wild and misarray 
Marr'd the fair form of festal day. 
The horsemen pricked among the crowd, 
Repelled by threats and insult loud ; 



Canto V. THE COMBAT. 127 

To earth are borne the old and weak, 
The timorous fly, the women shriek j 
With flint, with shaft, with staff; with bar, 
The hardier urge tumSUtuous war. 
At once round Douglas darkly sweep 
The royaJ spears in circle deep. 
And slowly scale the pathway steep j 
While on their rear in thunder pour 
The rabble with disordered roar. 
With grief ihe noble Douglas saw 
The commons rise against the law, 
And to the leading soldier said,— 
" Sir John of Hyndford ! 'twas my blade, 
That knighthood on thy shoulder laid ; 
For ihat good deed, permit me then, 
A word with these misguided men. — 

xxvin. 

" Hear, gentle friends I ere yet, for me, 
Ye break the bans of fealty. 
My life, my honour, and my cause, 
I lender free to Scotland's laws ; 
Are these so weak as must require 
The aid of your misguided ire ? 
Or, if I suffer causeless wrong, 
Is then my selfish i age so strong. 
My sense of public weal so low, 
That, for mean vengeance on a foe, 
Those chords of love I should unbind, 
Which knit my country and my kind ? 
Oh no ! Believe, in yonder tower 
It will not soothe my captive hour, 
To know those spears our foes should dread, 
For me in kindred gore are red. 
To know in fruitless brawl begun, 
For me that mother wails her son ; 
For me that widow's mate expires, 
For me, that orphans weep their s/ies, 



3123 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto V. 
That patriots mourn insulted laws, 
And curse the Douglas for the cause. 
O let your patience ward such ill, 
And keep your right to love me still !"— 

XXIX. 

The crowd's wild fury sunk again 

In tears, as tempests melt in rain. 

With lifted hands and eyes, they prayed 

For blessings on his generous head, 

Who for his country felt alone, 

And prized her blood beyond his own. 

Old men, upon tlie verge of life, 

Blessed him who stayed the civil strife ; 

And mothers held iheir babes on high, 

The self-devoted chief to spy, 

Triumphant over wrong and ire, 

To whom the prattlers owed a sire ; 

Even the rough soldier's heart was moved, 

As if behind some bier beloved. 

With trailing arms and drooping head, 

The Douglas up the hill they led. 

And at the castle's battled verge, 

With sighs, resigned their honoured charge. 

XXX. 

The offended monarch rode apart, 
With liiLter thought and swelling heart. 
And would not now vouchsafe again 
Through Stirling streets to lead his train. 
" O Lennox, who would wish to rule 
This changeling crowd, this common fool ! 
Hear'st thou," he said, *' the loud acclaim. 
With which they shout the Douglas name ? 
With like acclaim, the vulgar throat 
;5.traified for King James their inorning i)o(;e j 



Canto V. THE COMBAT. 129 

With like acclaim they hail the day 
Wlien first I broke the Douglas sway ; 
And like acclaim would Douglas greet, 
If he could hurl me from my seat, 
Who o'er the herd would wish to reign, 
Fantastic, fickle, fierce, and vain ? 
Vain as the leaf upon the stream, 
And fickle as a changeful dream ; 
Fantastic as a woman's mood, 
And fierce as frenzy's fevered blood. 
Thou many-headed monster-thing, 

who would wish to be thy king !— 

XXXI. 
<' But sofl, What messenger of speed 
Spurs hitherward his panting steed .' 

1 guess his cognizance afar— 

What from our cousin, John of Mar ?" 
" He prays, my liege, your sports keep bound 
Within the safe and guarded ground ; 
For some foul purpose yet unknown, — 
JMost sure for evil to the throne,— 
Tlie outlawed Chieftain, Roderick Dhu, 
Has summoned his rebellious crew ; 
'Tis said, in James of Bothwell's aid 
These loose banditti stand arrayed. 
The Earl of Mar, this morn from Doune, 
To break their muster marched, and soon 
Your grace will hear of battle fought ; 
But earnestly the Earl besought, 

Till for such danger he provide, 

With scanty train you will not ride."— 
XXXII. 

« Thou warn'st me I have done amiss,— 

I should have earlier looked to this ; 

I lost it in this bustling day. 

—Retrace with speed thy former way ; 



130 LADY OF THE LAKE. OftotoV. 

Spare not for spoiling of thy steed, 
The best of mine shall be thy meed. 
6 ay to our faithful Lord of Mar, 
We do forbid the intended war ; 
Roderick this morn, in single fight, 
Was made our prisoner by a knight, 
And Douglas hath himself and cause 
Submitted to our kingdom's laws. 
The tidings of their leaders lost 
Will soon dissolve the mountain host, 
Nor would we that the vulgar feel, 
For their Chief's crimes, avenging steel. 
■ Bear Mar our message, Braco, fly." — 
He turned his steed,—" My liege, I hie, 
Yet, ere I cross this lily lawn, 
I fear the broad-swords will be drawn,"— 
The turf the flying courser spurned, 
And to.his toweis the king leturned. 
I'll with King James's mood that day, 
Suited gay feast and minstrel lay; 
Soon were dismissed the courtly throng, 
And soon cut short the festal song. 
And less upon the saddened town 
The evening sunk in sorow down ; 
The burghers spoke of civil jar, 
Of rumoured feuds and mountain war, 
Of Moray, Mar, and Roderick Dhu, 
All up in arms ;— the Douglas too. 
They mourned him pent within the hold , 
" Where stout Earl William was of old,"* 
And there his word the speaker stayed, 
And finger on his lips he laid, 
Or pointed to his dagger blade. 
But jaded hor:>eman from the west, 
At evening to the castle pressed ; 

* Stabbed by James H. in Stirling Castle. 



Canto V. THE COMBAT 131 

And busy talkers said they bore 
Tidings of fight on Katrine's shore ; 
At noon the deadly fray begun, 
And lasted till the set of sun. 
Thus giddy rumour shook the town, 
Till closed the ^'ight her pennons brown. 



END OF CANTO FIFTH. 



THK 

liADY OF THE LAKE. 

CAJ^TO SIXTH. 



THE GUARD-ROOM. 

I. 

THE sun, awakening, through the smoky air 

Of the dark city casts a sullen glance, 
Rousing each caitiff to his task of care, 

■Of sinful man the sad inheritance ; 
Summoning revellers from the lagging dance. 

And scaring prowling robbers to their den ; 
Gliding on the battled tower the warder's lance, 

And warning student pale to leave his pen. 
And yield his drowsy eyes to the kind nurse of men. 
What various scenes, and, O ! what scenes of wo. 

Are witnessed by that red and struggling beam ; 
The fevered patient, from his pallet low, 

Through crowded hospitals beholds its stream ; 
The ruined maiden trembles at its gleam. 

The debtor wakes to thoughts of gyve and jail, 
The love-lorn wretch starts from tormenting dream ; 

The wakeful mother, by the glimmering pale. 

Trims her sick infant's couch, and soothes his feeble 
wail. 

II. 

At dawn the towers of Stirling rang, 

With soldier-step and weapon clang, 
While drums, with rolling note, foretell 
Relief to weary sentinel. 
Through narrow loop and casement barr'd 
The sunbeams sought the Court of Guard, 



Canto VI. THE GUARIKROOM. 138 

And struggling with the smoky air, 
Deadened the torches' yellow glare. 
In comfoitlesa alliance shone 
The lights through arch of blackened stoHe, 
And showed wild shapes in garb of war, 
Faces deformed with beard and scar, 
All haggard from the midnight watch , 
And fevered with the stern debauch ; 
For the oak table's massive board, 
Flooded with wine, with fragments stored. 
And beakers drained, and cups o'erthrown, 
Showed in what sport the night had flown. 
Some, weary, snored on floor and bench ; 
Some laboured still their thirst to quench 5 
Some chilled with watching, spread their hands 
O'er the huge chimney's dying brands, 
While round them, or beside them flung, 
At every step their harness rung. 

III. 
These drew not for their fields the sword, 
Like tenants of a feudal lord. 
Nor owned the patriarchal claim 
Of chieftain in their leader's name ; 
Adventurers they, from far who roved, 
To live by battle which they loved. 
There the Italian's clouded face. 
The swarthy Spaniard's there you trace ; 
The mountain-loving Switzer there 
More freely bi'eathed in mountain air ; 
The Fleming there despised the soil, 
That paid so ill the labourer's toil j 
The rolls showed French and German name, 
And merry England's exiles came, 
To share, with ill-concealed disdain, 
Of Scotland'8 pay the scanty gain. 



134 LADY OF THE LAKE; Canto VI. 

All brave In arms, well trained to wield 
Tlie heavy halbert, brand, and shield ; 
In camps licentious, wild and bold, 
In pillage fierce and uncontrolled ; 
And now, by holytide and feast, 
From rules of discipline released. 



IV. 



They held debate of bloody fray, 

Fought twixt Loch-Katrine and Achray . 

Fierce was their speech, and, mid their words. 

Their hands oft grappled to their swords ; 

Nor sunk their tone to spare the ear 

Of wounded comrades groaning near. 

Whose mangled limbs, and bodies gored, 

Bore token of the mountain sword, 

Though, neigbouring to the court of guard, 

Their prayers and feverish wails were heard ? 

Sad burden to the ruffian joke, 

And savage oath by fury spoke ! — 

At length up started John of Brent, 

A yeoman from the banks of Trent, 

A stranger to respect or fear, 

In peace a chaser of the deer, 

In host a hardy mutineer, 

But still the boldest ofthe crew, 

When deed of danger was to do. 

He grieved, that day their games, cnt short, 

And marr'd the dicers' brawling sport. 

And shouted loud, " Renew the bowl I 

And, while a merry catcii I troll, 

Let each the buxom chorus bear, 

Like brethren ofthe brand and spear."— 



Canto VI. THE GUARD-BOOM. 13S 

V. 

SOLDIER'S BONG. 
Our vicar still preaches that Peter and Poule 
Laid a swinging long curse on the bonny brown bowl, 
That there's wratii and despair in the jolly black 

jack, 
And the seven deadly sins in a flagon of sack ; 
Yet, whoop, Baruaby : otf with thy liquor ! 
Drink upsees* out. and a lig for the vicar I 
Our vicar he calls it dauinacion to nip, 
The ripe ruddy dew of a woman's dear lip, 
Says that Belzebub lurlis in her kerchief so sly 
And Apoiy on shoots darts from her merry black ej e, 
Yet whoop, Jack ! kiss Gillian the quicker. 
Till she bloom like a rose, and a tig lor the vicar ! 
Our vicar thus preaches— and wJiy should he not? 
For the dues of Iiis cure are the placktt and pot i 
And 'tis right of his oihce poor layman to lurch, 
Who infringe tlie domains of our good mother 

Church. 
Yet wlioop,buily-boys ! off with your liquor, 
Sweet Maijorie's the word,aud a fig for the vicar ! 

VI. 

The warder's challenge, heard without. 

Stayed in mid roar tlie merry shout. 

A soldier to the portal went,— 

" Here is old Bertram, sirs of Ghent; 

And, beat fur jubilee your drum ! 

A maid and minstrel \¥ith him come." — 

Bertram, a Fleming, gray and scarr'd, 

Was entering now the court of guard, 

A harper with him, and, in plaid 

All muffled close, a mountain maid,' 

*A Bacclianallan iuterjecUoQ, borrowed fiom the 
Dutch. 



1»6 LADY OF THE LAKE. OuntoVI. 

Who backward ehrunk to 'scape he view 

Of ihe loose scene and boisterous crew. 

*' What news.'" lliey roared: — '•! only know, 

From noon till eve we louglit with foe, 

As wild aud as uutameabie, 

As the rude mountains where they dwell. 

On both sides store of blood is loot, 

Nor much success can either boast." — 

'* But wiience thy captives, friend .'' iSuch spoil 

As theirs must needs reward thy toil. 

Old dost thou wax, and wars grow sharp ; 

Thou now hast glee-maiden and harp, 

Get thee an ape, and trudge the land, 

The leader of a juggler band."— 

VII. 
*' JMo, comrade ;— no such fortune mine, 
After the fight, these sought our line, 
That aged harper and the girl, 
And, having audience of the Earl, 
Mar bade 1 should purvey thern steed. 
And bring them hitherward with speed. 
Forbear your mirth and rude alarm, 

For none shall do them shame or harm."— " 
•< Hear ye his boast !" cried John of Btenl, 

Ever to strife and jangling bent, — 

'' bhall he strike doe beside our lodge, 

And yet the jealous niggard grudge 

To pay the forester his fee ; 

I'll have my share howe'er it be, 

Despite of Moray, Mar, or thee."— 

Bertram his forward step withstood ; 

And, burning in his vengeful mood. 

Old Allan, tiiougU unfit for strife, 

Laid hand upon his dagger-knife j 

But Ellen boldly stepped between, 

And dropped at once the tartan screfn . 



Canto VI. THE GUARD-ROOM. 137 

So, from his morning cloud, appears 
The sun of May, through summer tears. 
The savage soldiery, amazed, 
As on descended angel gazed ; 
Even hardy Brent, abashed and tamed, 
Stood half admiring, half ashamed. 

VIII. 
Boldly she spoke :— " Soldiers, attend ! 
My father was the soldier's friend ; 
Cheer'd him in camps, in marches led, 
And with him in the batlle bled. 
Not from the valiant or the strong, 
Should exile's daughter suffer wrong."— 
Answered De Brent, most forward still 
In every feat of good or ill— 

« I shame me of the part I played ; « 

And thou an outlaw's child, poor maid ! 
An outlaw I by Forest laws. 
And merry Needwood knows the cause. 
Poor Rose,— if Rose be living now,"— 
He wiped his iron eye and brow, 
«« Must bear such age, I think, as thou.— 
Hear ye, my mates ;— I go to call 
The naptain of our watch to hall: 
There lies my lialberton the floor j 
And he that steps my halbert o'er, 
To do the maid injurious part, 
My shaft shall quiver in his heait !— 
Beware loose speech, or jesting rough : 
Ye all know John de Brent. Enough."— 

IX 
Their captain came, a gallant young, — 
(Of Tullibardine's honse he sprung ;) 
Nor wore he yet the spurs of knight ; 
Guy was Uia raien, his humour light 
11* 



J LADY OF THB I<AEE. Canto VI. 

And; though by courtesy controlled, 

Forward his speech, bis bearing bold, 

The highborn maiden ill could brook 

The scanning of his curious look 

And dauntless eye j— and yet, in sooth, 

Young Lewis was a generous youth j 

But Ellen's lovely lace and mien. 

Ill-suited to the garb and scene, 

Might lightly beai construction strange. 

And give loose fancy scope to range. 

— " Welcome to Stirling towers, fair maid ; 

Come ye to seek a champion's aid, 

On palfrey white, with harper hoar, 

Like errant dainosel of yore ; 

Does thy high quest a knight require ? 

Or may the venture suit a squire ?" — 

Her dark eye flash'd j— she paused and sighed, 

" O what have I to do with pride !— 

— Through scenes of sorrow, shame, and strife, 

A suppliant for a father's life, 

I crave an audience of the King, 

Behold, to back my suit, a ring, 

The royal pledge of grateful claims. 

Given by the Monarch to Fitz-James."— 

X. 

The signet ring young Lewis took, 
With deep respect and altered look ; 
And said,—" This ring our duties own ; 
And pardon, if, to worth unknown. 
In semblance mean obscurely veiled, 
Lady, in aught my folly failed. 
Soon as the day flings wide his gates, 
The King shall know what suiter waits, 
Please you, meanwile, in fitting bower 
Repose you till his waking hour; 



C(»toVI. THE GUAKD-RQOM. i» 

Female attendance shall obey 

Your best for eervlce or array. 

Permit I marsbal you tbe way."— 

But, ere she followed, with the grace 

And open bounty of her race, 

She bade her slender purse bs shared 

Among the soldiers of the guard. 

The rest with thanks their guerdon took : 

But Brent with sly and awkward look, 

On the reluctant maiden's hold 

Forced bluntly back the proffered gold j— 

" Forgive a haughty English heart, 

And O forget its ruder part ! 

The vacant puise shall be my share 

Which in my barrat-cap I'll bear. 

Perchance, in jeopardy of war. 

Where gayer crests may keep afar." — 

With thanks,— 'twas all she could,— tlie maid 

His rugged courtesy repaid. 

XI. 

When Ellen forth witlr Lewis went, 
Allan made suit to John of B rent :— 
" My lady safe, O let your grace 
Give me to see my master's lace I 
His minstrel I,— to share his doom 
Bound from the cradle to the tomb. 
Tenth in descent, since first my sires 
Waked for his noble house their lyres, 
Nor one of all the race was known 
But prized its weal above their own. 
With the Chief's birth begins our care ; 
Our harp must soothe the infant heir. 
Teach the youth tales of fight, and grac« 
His earliest feat of field or chase ; 
In peace, in war, our rank we keep, 
W« cheer his board, we soothe his sleep, 



140 LADY OF THE LAKE, Canto VI. 

Nor Jeave him till we pour our verse, 
A doleful tribute ! o'er his hearse. 
Then let me sliare his captive lot ; 
1 1 is my right— deny it not ! " — 
•' Little we reck,'' said John of Brent, 
•' VVe Southern men, of long descent j 
Nor wot we how a nnme — a word — 
Makes clansmen vassals to a lord : 
Yet kind my noble landlord's part, — 
Gdd bless the house of Beaudesert ! 
And, but I loved to drive the dter, 
More than to j^ulde the labouring steer, 
I had not dwelt an outcast here. 
Come, good old Minstrel, follow me; 
Thy Lord and Chieftain shult thou see," 

XIL 
Then, from a rusted iron hook," 
A bunch of ponderous keys he took, 
Lighted a torch, and Allan led 
Through grated arch and passage dread. 
Portals they passed, where, deep within, 
Spoke prisoner's moan, and felters' din ; 
Through rugged vaults, where, loosely stored, 
Lay wheel, and axe, and headsman's sword, 
And many a hideous engine grim. 
For vi'renching joints and crushing limb, 
By artists formed, who deemed it shame 
And fin to give their work a nsme. 
They halted at a low-browed porch, 
And Bient to Allan gave the torch. 
While bolt and chain he backward rolled, 
And made the bar unhasp its hold. 
They entered :— 'twas a prison-room 
Of stem security and gloom. 
Yet not a dungeon ; lor the day 
Through lofty gratings found its way, 



Caoto VI, ■'^- JTHE GUARD-ROOM; 141 

Aud rude and antique garniture 
Decked the sad walls and flinty floor. 
" Here," said De Brent, " thou may's! remain ;''— 
And then, retiring, bolt aud chain 
And rusty bar he drew again. 
Roused at the sound, from lowly bed 
A captive feebly raised his head ; 
The wondering INIinstrel looked, and knew 
Kothis dear lord, but Roderick Dhu! 
For, come from where Clan-Alpine fought. 
They, erring, deemed the Chief he sought. 

XIII. 

As the tall ship whose lofty prore 
Shall never stem the billows isore, 
Deserted by her gallant band. 
Amid the breakers lies astraud, — 
So, on his couch, lay Roderick Dhu ! 
Aud oft his fevered limbs he threw 
In toss abrupt, as when her sides 
Lie rocking in the advancing tides 
That shake her frame with ceaseless beat, 
Yet cannot heave her from her seat ; 
O ! how unlike her course on sea I 
Or his free step on hill and lea I — 
Soon as the Minstrel he could scan, 
— " What of tliy lady ? of my clan? — 
My mother?— Douglas ?— tell me all .' 
Have they been ruined in my faU? 
Ah, yes ! or wherefore art thou here 1 
Yet speak,— speak boldly,— do not fear."— 
(.For Allan, who his mood well knew, 
Was choked with grief aud terror too .) — 
'« Who fought— who fled ?— Old man, be briefs- 
Some might- for tliey had lost their Chief. 



hta LADY OP THE LAKE. OantO VI, 

Who basely live ? — who bravely died ?" — 

" O, calm thee, Chief!'' the Minstrel cried, 

" Ellen Is safe j"— " Fof that thank heaven !"— 

'• And hopes are for the Douglas given }— 

The Lady Margaret, too, is well, 

And, for thy clan, — on field or fell, 

Has never harp of minstrel told, 

Of combat fought so true and bold. 

Thy stately pine is yet unbent, 

Though many a goodly bough is rent." 
XIV. 

The Chieftain reared his form on high^ 

And fever's fire was in his eye ; 

But ghastly, pale, and livid streaks 

Checkered his swarthy brow and cheeks. 

— " Hark, Minstrel ! I have lieard thee ^jlay, 

With measures bold on festal day, 

In yon lone isle,— again where ne'er 

Shall harper play, or warrior hear,— 

That stirring air that peals on high, 

O'er Dermid's race our victory.— 

Strike it .'—and then, (for well thou canst,) 

Free from thy minstrel-j^pirit glanced, 

Fhng me the picture of the fight, 

When met my clan the Saxon might. 

ril listen, till my fancy hears 

Tne clang of swords, the crash of spears ! 

These grates, these walls, shall vanisU thea 

For the fair field of fighting men. 

And my free spirit burst away, 

As if it soared from battle fray." 

Tlie trembling bard with awe obeyed, — 

Slow on the harp his hand he laid j 

But soon remembrance of the sight 

He witnessed from the mountain's height. 

With what old IJeriram told at nighty 



Canto VI. THE GUARD-ROOM. Ii3 

Awakened the full power of song, 
And bore him in career along: — 
As shallop launched on river's tide, 
That slow and fearful leaves the side, 
But, when it feels the middle stream, 
Drives downward swift as lightning's beam. 
XV. 
BATTLE OF BE.\L' AN DUINE. 
" The Minstrel came once more to view 
The eastern ridge of Benvenue, 
For, ere he parted, he would say 
Farewell to lovely Loch Achiay— 
Where shall he find, in foreign land. 
So lone a lake, so sweet a strand ! 
There is no breeze upon the fern, 
4^0 ripple on the lake. 
Upon her eyrie nods the erne, 

The deer has sought the brake ; 

The small birds will not sing aloud, 

The springing trout lies still^ ^ 

So darkly glooms yon thunder cloud, 

That swathes, as with a purple sliroud, 

Benledi's distant hill. 
Is it the thunder's solemn sound 
That mutters deep and dread, 
Or echoes from the groaning ground. 

The warrior's measured tread? 
Is it the lightning's quivering glance 

That on the thicket streams, 
Or do' tJiey flash on speer and lance 
"Mie sun's retiring beams? 
I' see the dagger-crest of Mar, 
I see the Moray's silver star. 
Wave o'er the cloud of Saxon war, 
That up the lake 6om«*a winding far ! 



144 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto IT". 

To hero boune for battle-str!fe, 

Or bard of martial lay, 
'Tvvere worth ten years of peaceful life, 
One glance at their array. 

XVL 

<' Their light-armed archers far and near 

Purveyed the tangled ground, 

Their centre ranks, with pike and spear, 

A twilight forest frowned ; 
Their barbed horsemen, in the rear, 

The stern battalia crowned, 
No cymbal clashed, no clarion rang, 

Still were the pipe and drum *, 
Save heavy tread, and armour's clang, 

The sullen march wis dumb. 
There breathed no wind their crests to |hake, 

Or wave their flags abroad ; 
Scarce the frail aspen seemed to quake, 

That shadowed o'er their road. 
Their va%'ard scouts no tidings bring, 

Can rouse no *lurking foe, 
Nor spy a trace of living thing, 

Save when they stirred the roe ; 
The host moves like a deep sea wave, 
Where rise no rocks its pride to brave, 

High swelling, dark, and slow. 
The lake is passed, and now they gain 
A narrow and a broken plain. 
Before the Trosnch's rusged jaw , 
And here the horse and spear-men pause. 
While, to explore the dangerous glen, 
Dive through the pass the archer-men. ♦ 

XVIL 
" At once lbef6 rose so wild a yell 
Wrthin that darh and narrow delJ, 



Canto Vr. THE GUARD-ROOM. US 

As all the fiends, from heaven thai Ie!i, 
Had peeled the banner-cry of hell ! 
Forth from the pass in tumult driven, 
Like chaff before the wind of heaven. 

The archery appear: 
For life ! for life ! their flight Ihey ply, 
And shriek, and shout, ihe battle-cry, 
And plaids, and bonnets waving high, 
And broadswords flashing to the sky. 

Are maddening in their rear. 
Onward they drive, in dreadful lace, 

Pursuers and pursued ; 
Before that tide of flight and chase, 
How shall it keep its rooted place. 
The spearman's twilight wood .' 
— 'Down, down,' cried Mar, ' your lancea down ' 

Bear back both friend and foe '.' 
Like reeds before the tempest's frown, 
That serried grove of lances brown 

At once lay level I'd low ; 
And closely shouldering side to side, 
The bristling ranks the onset bide.— 
— ' We'll quell the savage mountaineer, 

As their Tinchel* cows the game ! 
They come as fleet as forest deer, 

We'll drive tliera back as tame.'— 

XVIII. 
" Bearing before them, in their course, 
The relics of the archer force, 
Like wave with crest of sparkling foam, 
Right onward did Clan-Alpine come. 
Above their tide, each broadsword bright 
Was brandishing like beam of light, 

*A circle of sportsmen, wlio by surronndinjr a sreal 
space, and gradually iiarrownii, brought immense 
quantities of deer to;:eilier, which ubualy made uespa- 
laie etorts to break through iho Tinchd. 

11 



J46 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto IT. 

Each targe was dark' below ; 
And with the ocean's mighty swing, 
When heaving to the tempest's wing, 

They hurled them on the foe. 
1 heard the lance's shivering crash, 
As when the whirlwind rends the ash ; 
I heard the broadsword's deadly clang, 
Ap if ;t hundred anvils rang ! 
But Moray wheeled his rearward rank 
Of horsemen on Clan- Alpine's flank,— 

— • My banner-man, advance I 
1 see,' he cried, ' their column shake : 
Now, gallants I for your ladies' sake, 

Xiprn them with the lance I' — 
The hor-eraen dadhed among the routs ;- 

As deer break through the broom j 
Their steeds are stout, their swords are out. 

They soon make lightsome room, 
CJan-Alpine's best are backward borne— 

Where, where, was Roderick then ! 
©ne blast upon his bugle-horn 

Were wot th a thousand men. 
And refluent through the pass of fear 

The battle tide was pour'd j 
Vanished the Saxon's struggling spear. 

Vanished the mountain sword'. 
As Bracklinn's chasm, so black and steept 

Receives her roaring linn, 
As the dark caverns of the deep 

Suck the wild whirlpool in, 
So did the deep and darksome pass 
Devour the battle's mingled mass ; 
None linger now upon the plain, 
Save those who ne'er shall fight again. 

XIX. 
«» Now westward rolls the battle's din, 
That deep and doubling pass within. 



canto VJ THE GUARD ROOM. 147 

Minstrel, avray ! the work of fate 
la bearing on : its issue wait, 
Where the rude Trosach's dread defile 
Opens on Katrine's lake and isle. 
Gray Benvenue I soon repassed, 
Loch-Kairine lay beneath me cast. 
The sun is set j— the clou.is are met, 

The lowering scowl of heaven 
An inky hue of livid blue 

To the deep lake has given ; 
Strange gusts of wind from mountain glen 
Swept o'er tlie lake, then sunk ageii. 
I heeded not the eddying surge, 
Mine e^e but saw the Trosach's gorge, 
Mine ear but heard that sullen sound, 
Which like an eaitiiquake shook the ground, 
And spoke the stern and desperate strife 
That pajts not but with parting life, 
Eeeming, to minstrel-ear, to toll 
Tlie diige of many a passing soul. 
Nearer it comes tlie dim-wood glen 
The martial flood disgorged agen, 

But not in mingled tide; 
The plaided warrior of the Nonh, 
High on ihe mountain thunder forth, 

And overhung its side ; 
While by the lake below appears 
The darkening cloud of Saxnn spears. 
At weary bay each shattered band, 
Eying their foeman, sternly stand; 
Their banners stream like shattered sail, 
That flings its fragments to the gale. 
And broken arms and disarray 
Marked the fell havoc of the day. 

XX. 
" Viewing the mountain's ridge askance, 
The Saxons stood in sullen trance. 



i48 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto Vi. 

Till Mat-ay pointed with his lance, 

An«l cried—' Behold yon isle !— 
Fee ! none are left to guard its strand, 
But women weak, that wring the hand ; 
'Tls there of yore the robber band 

Their booty wont to pile : 
My purse, with bonnet pieces store 
To him will swim a bowshot o'er, 
And loose a shuUop from the shore. 
Lightly we tame the war-wolf then, 
Lords of his mate, and brood, and den.' — 
Forth from the ranks a spearman sprung, 
On earth his casque and corslet rung, 
He plunged him in the wave ;— 
All saw the deed— the purpose knew, 
And to their clamours Benvenue 

A mingled echo gave ; 
The Saxons shout, their male to cheei-. 
The helpless females icream for fear, 
And yelte for rage the mountaineer. 
'Twas then, as by the outcry riven, 
Poured down at once the lowering heaven ; 
A whirlwind swept Loch Katrine's breast, 
Her billow reared his snowy crest. 
Well for the swimmer swelled it high, 
To mar the highland marksman's eye, 
For round lilm showered, mid rain and hail, 
The vengeful arrows of the Gael. — 
In vain. — He nears the isle— and lo ! 
His hand is on a shallop's bow. 
— Just then a flaph of lightning came, 
It tinged the waves and strand with flame ; 
I marked Duncraggan's widowed dame, 
Behind an oak I saw her stand, 
Her husband's dirk gleamed in her hand ; 
It darkened— but amid the moan 
Of waves, I heard a dying groan 5— 



CEivto VJ THE GUARD-ROOM 194 

Another flash .'—the spearman floats 
A weltering corse beside the boats, 
And the stem Matron o'er him stoo^, 
Her hand and dagger streaming blocd. 

XXI. 
" Revenge ! revenge 1'' the Saxons cried, 
The Gael's exulting shout replied, 
Despite the elemental rage, 
Again they hurried to engage ; 
But, ere they clos'd in desperate fight, 
Bloody with spurring came a knight, 
Sprung from his horse, and from a crag, 
Waved 'tw ixt the hosts a milk white flag. 
Clarion and trumpet by his side 
Rung forth a truce-nole high and wide, 
While, in the monarch's name, afar 
A herald's voice forbade the war ; 
For Bothwell's lord, and Roderick bold, 
Were both, he said, in captive hold."— 
But here the lay made sudden stand, 
The harp escaped the minstrel's hand '. 
Oft had he stolen a glance, to spy 
How Roderick brooked his minstrelsy : 
At first, the Chieftain, to the chime, 
With lifted hand, kept feeble time •, 
That motion ceased— yet feeling strong, 
Varied his look as changed the song ; 
At length, no more bis deafened ear 
The minstrel melody can hear; 
His face grows sharp, his hands are clenched, 
As if some pang his heart-strings wrenched ; 
Set are his t^eth,— his fading eye 
Is sternly fixed on vacancy, 
Thus, motionless, and moanless, drew 
His parting breath, stout Roderick Dhu ! 
Old Allan.bane looked on aghast, 
While grim aad still his spirit passed : 
12* 



25Q LADY OP THE LAKE. Canto VI. 

But when he saw that life was fled, 
He poured his wailing o'er the dead. 
XXII. 
LAMENT. 
•• And thou art cold, and lowly laid, 
Thy foeman's dread, thy people's aid, 
Jheadalbanfe's boast, Clan-Alpine's shade ! 
For thee shall none a requiem say ? — 
For thee who lov'd^e minstiel's lay, 
For thee, of Bothwell's house the stay, 
The shelter of her exiled line, — 
E'en in this prison-house of thine, 
I'll wail for Alpine's honoured pine ! 
" What groans shall yonder vallej'S fill ! 
What shrieks of grief shall rend yon hill I 
What tears of burning rage shall thrill, 
When mourns thy tribe thy battles done, 
Thy fall before the race was won, 
Thy sword ungirtere set of sun ! 
There breathes not clansmen of thy line. 
But would have given his life for thine. — 
O wo for Alpine's honoured pine ! 
" Sad was thy lot on mortal stage I— 
The captive thrush may brook the caga, 
The prisoner eagle dies for rage. 
Brave spirit, do not scorn my strain ? 
And when it notes awake again, 
Even she, so long beloved in vain, 
Shall with my harp her voice combine, 
And mix her wo and tears with mine. 
To wail Clan- Alpine's honoured pine."— 

XXIII. 
Ellen, the while, with bursting hsart, 
Eemained in lordly bower apart, 



Canto VI. THE GUARD-BOOM. Ul 

Where played, with many-coloured gleams, 
Through storied pane the rising beams, 
In vain on gilded roof they fall, 
And lightened up a tapestried wall, 
And for her use a menial train, 
A rich collation spread in vain. 
The banquet proud, the chamber gay, 
Scarce drew one curious glance astray j 
Or if she looked, 'twas but to say, 
With better omen dawn'd the day 
In that lone isle, where waved on high 
The dun deer hide for canopy; 
Where oft h«r noble father shared 
The simple meal her care prepared, 
While Lufra, crouching by her side, 
Her station claimed with jealous pride, 
And Douglas, bent on woodland game, 
Spoke of the chase to Malcolm-Greeme, 
Whose aeswer, oft at random made. 
The wandering of his thoughts betrayed— 
Those who such simple joys have known. 
Are taught to prize them when they're gone. 
But sudden, see, she lifts her head I 
The window seeks with cautious tread, 
What distant music has the power 
To win her in this woful hour ! 
'Twaa from a turret that o'erhung 
Her latticed bower, the stiain was sung. 

XXIV. 

LAY OF THE IMPRISONED HUNTSMAN. 

My hawk is tired of perch and hood, 
My idle greyhound loathes his food, 
My horse is weary of his stall, 
And I am sick of captive thr?!?. 



152 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto VI 

I wish I were as I have been, 
Hanting the liart in forests green ; 
With bended bow and blood-hound free, 
For that's the life is meet for nie. 

I hate to learn the ebb of time 
Fro.-n yon dull steeple's drowsy chime ; 
Or mark it as the sunbeams crawl, 
Inch after inch, along the wall. 
The lark \\ws wont my matins ring, 
The sable rook my vespers sing ; 
These towers, although a king's they be, 
Have not a hall of joy for me. 

No more at dawning morn I rise, 
And sun myself in Ellen's eye,«, 
Drive the fleet deer the forest through, 
And homeward wend with evening dew ; 
A blithsome welcome blithely meet. 
And lay my trophies at her feet, 
While fled the eve on wing of glee — 
That life is lost to love and me ! 

XXV. 

The heart-sick lay was hardly said, 

The lisi'ner had notturned her head, 

It trickled slill, the starting tear. 

When light a footstep struck her ear, 

And Snowdown's graceful knight was near. 

She turned the hastier, lest again 

The prisoner should renew his strain. 

" O welcome, brave FitzJauies !" she aaid ; 

" How may an almost orphan maid 

Pay the deep debt."—" O say not so ! 

To me nj gratitude you owe. 

Not mine, alas ! the boon to give, 

nd bid thy noble father live ; 

I can but belhy guidOj sweet maid, 



Canto VI. THE GUARD-ROOM. 153 

With Scotland's King thy suit to aid. 
No tyrant he, though ire and pride 
May lead hlB better mood aside. 
Come, Ellen, Come !— 'tis more than time. 
He holds his courtat morning piime."— 
With beating heart, and bo?om wrung, 
As to a brother's arm she c'ung. 
Gently he dried the falling tear, 
And gently whispered hope and cheer ; 
Her faltering steps half led, half stayed, 
Through gallery fair and high arcade. 
Till, at his touch, its wings of pride 
A portal arch unfolded wide. 

xxvr. 

Within "twas brilliant all and light, 
A thronging scene of figures bright ; 
It glowed on Ellen's dazzled sight, 
As when the setting sun has given 
Ten thousand hues to summer even, 
And from tlieir tissue fancy fiames 
Aerial knights and fairy dames. 
Still by Filz- James her fooling stayed ; 
A few faint steps she forward made, 
Then slow her drooping head she raised, 
And fearful round the presence gazed ; 
For him she sought, who owned this state, 
The dreaded prince whose will was fate ;— 
She gazed on many a princely port. 
Might well have ruled a royal court ; 
On many a splendid garb she gazed,— 
Then turned bewildeied and amazed, 
For all stood bare ; and in the room , 
Fitz-James alcne wore cap and plume. 
To him each lady's look was lent. 
On him each courtier's eye was bent ; 



154 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto VI. 

Midst fura and silks and jewels sheen , 

Hestoodi in simple Lincoln green, 

The centre of the glittering ring, — 

And Snowdowu's Knight is Scotland's King I 

XXYll. 
As wreath of snow on mountain breast, 
Slides from the rock that gave it rest, 
Poor Ellen glided from her stay, 
And at the Monarch's feet she lay'; 
No word her choking voice commands,— 
She showed the ring, — she clasped lier hands. 
O ! not a moment could he brook, 
The generous prince, that suppliant look I 
Gently he raised her,— and the while 
Cliecked with a glance the circle's smile; 
Graceful, but grave, her brow he kissed, 
And bade her terrors be dismissed ; — 
" Yes, Fair ; the wandering poor Fltz-James 
The fealty of Scotland claims, 
To him thy woes, thy wishes, bring, 
He will redeem his signet ring. 
Ask nought for Douglas ;— yestcr even, 
His prince and he have much forgiven ; 
Wrong hath he had from slanderous tongue. 
I, from his rebel kinsman, wrong. 
We would not to the vulgar crowd 
Yield what they craved with clamour loud ; 
Cahnly we heard and judged his cause, 
Our council aided and our laws. 
I snatched thy father's death-feud stern, 
With stout De Vaux and gray Glencairn ; 
And Bothwell's Lord henceforth we own 
The friend and bulwark of our Throne. 
But, lovely infidel, how now? 
What clouds they misbelieving brow .' 
Loid James of Douglas, lend thine aid ; 
Thou must confirm this doubting maid." 



Canto VI. THE GUARD ROOM. 155 

XXVIII. 

Then forth the noble Douglas sprung, 
And on his neck the (laughter hupg. 
The Monarch drank, that happy hour, 
The sweetest, holiest draught of power,— 
When it can say, with godlike voice, 
Arise, sad virtue, and rejoice : 
Yet would not James the general eye 
On nature's raptures long should pry ; 
Ue stepp'd between — " Nay, Douglas, nay. 
Steal not my proselyte away ! 
The riddle 'tis my right to read, 
- /That brouiiht this happy c'lance to speed , — 
Yes, Ellen, when disguised I stray, 
In life's more low but happier way, 
'Tis under name which veils my power. 
Nor falsely veils— for Stirling tower 
Of yore the name of Snowdoun claims, 
And Norman calls me James Fitz-Jame«, 
Thus watch I o'er insulted laws. 
Thus learn to right the injured cause!" — 
Then in a tone apart and low, 
— " Ah little trait'ress '. none must know 
What idle dream, what lighter thought, 
What vanity full dearly bonght, 
Joined (o thine eye's dark witchcraft drew 
My spell-bound steps to Ben venue 
In dangerous hour, and all but gave 
Thy Monarch's life to mountain glaive I" — 
Aloud he spoke—" Thou still dost hold 
That little talisman of gold. 
Pledge of my faith, Fitz-James's ring — 
What seeks Fair Ellen of the King .'** 

XXiX. 

Full well the conscious nsaiden gneeaed. 
He probed the weakness other breast; 



1»6 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto VI. 

But, with tliat consciousness, tliere came 

A lightening of her fears forGrceme, 

And more she deemed tlie Monarch's ire 

Kindled 'against him, who for Iier sire, 

Rebellious broadsword boldly drew ; 

And to her generous feeling true, 

She craved the grace of Roderick Dhu.— • 

*' Forbear thy suit:— the King of kings 

Alone can stay life's parting wings. 

I know his heart, I know his hand, 

Have shared his cheer, and proved his brand ;— 

My fairest earldom would I give 

To bid Clan-Alpine's Chieftain live I 

Hast thou no other boon to crave ? 

No other captive friend to save I"— 

Blushing she turned her from the King, 

And to the Douglas gave the ring, 

As if she wished her sure to speak 

The suit that stained her glowing cheek— 

" Nay, then, my pledge has lost its force, 

And stubborn justice holds her course. 

Malcolm, come forth !"— And, at the word, 

Down kneel'dthe Grceme to Scotland's Lord. 

"For thee, rash youth, no suppliant sues. 

From thee may Vengeance claim her dues, 

Who nurtured underneath our smile, 

Has paid our care by treacherous wile, 

And sought, amid thy faithful clan, 

A refuge for an outlawed man, 

Dishonouring thus thy loyal name.— 

Fetters and warder for the Gneme !"— 

His chain of gold the King unstrung, 

The links o'er Malcolm's neck hefliung, 

Then gently drew the glittering band, 

And laid the clasp on Ellen's hand. 



Canto VI. THE GUARD ROOM. 157 



HARP ofthe North, Farewell ! The hills grow dark, 

On purple peaks a deeper shade descending ; 
In twilight copse the glow-worm lights her epark, 
The deer, half-seen, are to the covert wending. 
Resume thy wizard elm ! the fountain lending, 
And the wild breeze, thy wilder minstrelsy ; 
Thy numbers sweet with Nature's vespers blending, 

With distant echo from the fold and lea, 
And herdboy's evening pipe, and hum of housing bee. 

Yet, once again, farewell, thou Minstrel Harp I 

Yet, once again, forgive my feeble sway, 
And little reck I of the censure sharp 

May idly cavil at an idle lay. 
Much have I owed thy strains in life's long way, 

Through secret woes the world has never known, 
When on the weary night dawned wearier day, 

And bitterer was the grief devoured alone. 
That I o'erlive such woes, Enchantress ! is thine own. 

Hark ! as my lingering footsteps slow retire, 

Some spirit of the Air has waked thy string ! 
'Tis now a seraph bold, with touch of fire, 

'Tis now the brush of Fairy's frolic wing. 
Receding now, the dying numbers ring 

Fainter and fainter down the rugged dell, 
And now the mountain breezes scarcely bring 

A wandering wilch-note of the distant spell— 
And now, 'tis silent all ! Enchantress, fare thee well ! 



END OF CANTO SIXTH. 



13 



NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 



Note I. 

— The heights of Uam-var , 

Androused the cavern^ whfre 'tis told 

Jl giant made his den of old. Stanza iv.llne 3. 

Ua-var, as the name is pronounced, or more properly 
Uaigh-mor, is a mountain to the northeast of the vil- 
lage of Callander in Menteilh, deriving its name, which 
signifies the great den, or cavern, frorii a sort of retreat 
among the rocks on the south side, said by tradition to 
have been the abode ot a giant. In latter times it was 
the retuge of robbers and bindilti, who have only been 
extiipnted within tiiese forty or fifty years. Strictly 
pppaking, this strong hold is not a cave, as the name 
would iiniily.liutasurtof enclosure, or recess, surround- 
ed withlar^e rocks, and open above head. It may have 
been originally designed as a toil for deer, who might 
gel in from the outside, but would find it difficult to re- 
turn. This opinion prevails among the old sportsmen 
and deer stalkers in the neighbourhood. 

Note II. 
T7.P0 dogs of black St. Huberts breed, 
Unmatched for courage, strength^ and speed. 

Stanza vii. line 7. 

•' The hounds which we call Saint Hubert's hounds, 
are commonly all blacke, yet neuertheless, their race is 
60 mingled at these days, that we find them of all co- 
lours. These are the hounds which the abbots of Saint 
Hubert haue always kept some of their race or kind, in 
honor or remembrance of the saint, which was a hunter 
with Ft. Eustace. Whereupon we may conceiue that 
(by the grace of God) all good men shall follow them 
into paradise. To return vnlo my former purpo-e, this 
kind of dogges hath beene dispersed thiough the coun- 
tries of Henault, Lotayne, Flanders, and Burgoyne. — 
They are mighty of body, neuertheless their legses are 
low and .short ; likewise they are not swill, although 
tliey be very good of sent, hunting chases which are 
larre straggled, fearing neither water nor cold, and doe 
raoie conet the chaces that smell, as foxes, bore, and 
such like, than other, because they find themselues nei- 
ther of swiftness nor courage to hunt and kill the chaces 
thai are lighter and swifter. The bloudhounds of this 
color proouegood,esi)ecially those that are cole-blacke, 



160 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 

but I make no gieat account to breede on them, or to 
keep the kind, and yet I found a booke which a hunter 
did dedicate to a prince of Lorayne, which seemed lo 
loue hunting much, wherein was a blason which the 
same hunter gaue to his bloudhound, called Souyliard, 
wJiich wiis white: 

My name came first from holy Hubert's race, 
Souyliard my sire, a hound of singular grace. 
Whereupon we may presume thit some of the kind 
prooue wliite sometimss, but they are not of the kind of 
the GrefRers or Bouxes, which we haue at these days."— 
Tke JVobLe Art of Venerie or Hunting, translated and 
collected for the use of allJ^Toblemen and Oentlemen. 
Lond. 1611. 4. p. 15. 

Note III. 

For the death wound, and death halloo. 
Mustered his breath, his whinyard dre^o. 

Stanza viii. line 7. 

When the stag turned to bay, the ancient hunter had 
the perilous task of going m upon, and killing or disa- 
bling the desperate animal. At certain times of the 
year this was held particularly dangerous, a wound re- 
ceived from a stag's horns being then deemed poison- 
ous, and more dangerous than one from the tusks of a 
boar, as the old rhyme testifies : 
If thou be hurt with hart it brings thee to thy bier, 
But barber's hnnd will bore's hurt heel, thereof thou 
needs not fear. 

At all times, however, the task was dangerous and to 
be adventured upon wisely and warily, either by getting 
behind the stag v.'hi'.e he was gazing on the hounds, or 
by watching an opportunity to gallop roundly in upon 
him, and kill him with the sword. See many direc- 
tions to this purpose in the Booke of Hunting, chap. 
41. Wilson, the liistorian, has recorded a providential 
escape which befell hun in this hazardous spoit, while 
a youth and follower of the earl of Essex. 

" Sir Peter Lee, of Lime in Cheshire, invited my 
lord one summer to hunt the stagg And having a 
great stagg in chace, and many gentlemen in the pur- 
suit, the stagg took.soyle. And divers, whereof I was 
one, alighted, and stood with swords drawne, to have 
a cut at him, nt his coming out of the water. The staggs, 
there, being wonderfully fierce and dangerous, made us 
youths more eager to be at him. But he escaped us all . 
And it was my misfortune to be hindered c»f my coming 



NOTE> TO CANTO FIRST, 151 

Here him, the way being sliperie, by a fall ; which gave 
occasion to some who did not know ine, to speak as if 
I hail falne for teare. Which being told me, I left the 
Etiic" and followed the gentleman who (first) spoke it. 
Bui I'found him of thai cold temper, that it seems his 
words made an escai e from him ; as by his denial and 
repentance it appealed. But this made mee moie vio- 
lent in pursnite ot the stagg, 10 recover my repnlation. 
And I happened to be tiie only horseman in, when the 
do-'gs sen him up at bay •, and approaching neie him on 
horseback, hee bri.ke through the dogs, ai d run at me, 
and lore my lioise's side with his homes, close by my 
thigh. Then 1 cpiited my horse and grew more cun- 
ning' (for the dogs had seite him up againe,) stealing be- 
hind him with my sword, and cut his ham strings ; and 
then got uiion his back, and cut his throat ; which as 1 
was doing, the company came in, and blamed my 
rashness for running such a hazard.''— Pec/.'s Desi- 
derata Curiosa, II.4G4. 

Note IV. 

Jlnd noiD to issue from the glen 

J^''o pathway meets the wander er^s ken, 

Unless he climb, with footing nice, 

^far projecting precipice. Stanza xlv. linel- 

Until the present road was made through the romaii- 
lic pnss which 1 have presumptuously attempted to des 
cribe in the pieceding stanzas, there was no mode of 
issuing out o! the defile, called the Trosachs, excepting 
hy a sort of ladder, composed of the branches and the 
loots of trees. 

Note V. 

To meet with highland plunder ers here 
Were worse than loss of steer or deer. 

St. xvi.linel3. 

The clans who inhabited the romantic regions in the 
neighborhood of Loch-Katrine, were even, until a late 
peri' id, much addicted to j)redatory excursions upon their 
lowland neighbours. 

" In former times, those parts of this district, which 
are situated beyond the Grampian range, were rendered 
almost inaccessible, by strong barriers of rocks and 
mountains, and lakes. It was a border country, and 
though on the very verge of the low country, it was a! 
most lotvilly sequestered from the world, and as it were, 
insulated with respect to society. 

" 'Tis well known, that in the highlands, it waa, in 
former times, accounted not only lawful, but honourable 
13* 



162 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 

among hostile tribes, to commit depredations on one 
another ; and these habits of the age were perhaps 
strengthened in this district, by the circumstances whicli 
have been mentioned. It bordered on a country, the 
inhabitants of which, while they were richer, were 
less warlike than tliey , and widely differenced by lan- 
guage and manners." — Graham's Sketches of Scenery 
in Perthshire. Edin. 180G, p, 97. 

The reader will therefore be pleased to remember, 
that the scene of this prem is laid in a time 
When tooming faulds, or sweeping of a glen 
Had ttili been^held the deed of gallant men. 

NOT33 VI. 

^ gray-haired sire, whose eye intent, 

Was on the visionary future bent. Stanza xxiii.line 7. 

If force or evidence could authorize us to believe facts 
inconsistent with the general laws of nature, enough 
might be produced in favor of tlie exis-tence of the Se- 
corid Sight. It is called in Gaelic Taishilaraugh, from 
Taish, an unreal or shadowy appearance, and tliose 
possessed of the faculty are called Taishatiiti, which 
may be aptly translated visionaries. Marljn, a steady 
believer in the second sight, gives the following account 
of it. 

" The second sight is a singulfir faculty of seeing an 
otherwise invisible object, without any previous means 
used by the person that uses it for that end ; the vision 
malies such a lively impression upon the seers, that 
they neither see, nor think of any tiling else, as long as 
it continues ; and then they appear pensive or jovial, 
according to the object which was represented to them. 

" At the sight of a vision, the eyelids of the person are 
erected, and the eyes continue stating, until the object 
vanish. This is obvious to others who are by, when 
the persons happen to see a vision, and occurred more 
than once to my own observation, and to others that 
were with me. 

" There is one in Skie, of whom his acquaintance 
observed, that when he sees a vision, the inner part of 
his eyelids turn so far upwards, tliat after the object 
disappears, he must draw them down with his fingers, 
and sometimes employ others to draw them down, 
which he finds to be tlie much easier way. 

" This faculty of the second .sight does not lineally 
descend in a family, as some imagine, fori know seve- 
jal parents who are endowed with it, their children not, 
.and vice i-er^a— neither is it acquired by any previous 
compact, And, after a strict inquiry, I cculd never 



163 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 

learn, that tliia faculty was communicable any way 
wliatsoever. 

" The seer knows neither the object, time, nor place 
of a vision, beforeit appears ; and the same ohject is of- 
ten seen by different persons, living: at a considerable 
distance from one another. The true way of jndging 
as to the lime and circumstance of an object, is by ob- 
servation ; for several persons of juds^ment, without this 
faculty, are more capable to Judge of the design of a vi- 
sion, than a novice that is a seer. If an chject appear 
in the day or night, it will come to pass sooner or later 
accordingly. 

" If an'ohjectisseen early in the morning, (which is 
not frequent,) it will be accomplished in a few hours 
afterward. If at noon, it will be commonly accomplish- 
ed that very day. If in the evening, perhaps that 
night ; if after candles be lighted, it will lie accomplish- 
ed that night : the latter always in accomplishment, by 
weeks, months, and sometimes, years, according to the 
time of night the vision is seen. 

•■■ When a shroud is perceived about one, it is a sure 
prosnostic of death : the time is judged according to the 
height of it about the person ; for if it is not seen above 
the middle, death is not to he expected for the space of 
a year and perhaps some months longer ; and as it is fre- 
quently seen to ascend higher towards the head, death 
is concluded to be at hand within a few days, if not 
hours, as daily experience confirms. Examples of this 
kind were shown me, when tlie person of whom the ob- 
eervatlons were then made, enjoyed perfect health. 

" One instance was lately foietnld by a seer that was 
a novice, concerning the death of one of my acquain- 
tance ; this was communicated to a few only, and with 
great confidence ; I being one of the number did not in 
liie least regard it, until the death of the person about 
the time foretold, did confirm me of the certainty of the 
prediction. The novice mentioned above is now a skil- 
ful seer, as appears from many late instances ; he lives 
in theparishof St. Marys, the most northern inSkie. 

" If a woman is seen standing at a man's left hand, it 
is a presage tliat she will be his wife, whether they be 
married to others, or unmarried at the time of the appa- 
rition. 

" If two or three women are seen at once near a man's 
left iiand, she that is next him will undoubtedly be his 
wife first, and so on, whether all tflfee, or the man be 
single or married at tlie time of the vision or not ; of 
which there are several late instances among those of 
my acquaintance. Jt is an ordinary thing for them to 



164 NOTES TO CANTO FIRS'J'. 

see a man that is to come to the house shortly after ; and 
if he is not, of the seer's acquaintance, yet he gives such 
u lively description of his stature, complexion, habit, 
&c. that upon his arrival he answers the ciiuracter given 
him in ail respects 

" If the person so appearing be one of the seer's ac- 
quaintance, he will lell his name, as well as other par- 
ticulars ; and he can tell hy his countenance whether 
he comes in goad or bad humour. 

" 1 have been seen thus myself by seers of both sexes, 
at some hundied miles distance^ some that saw me in ibis 
miinner, hid never seen me personally, and ithappened 
according to their visions, without any previous design 
ofminetogo to those pl.icesj my comirig Ihere being 
purely accidental. 

" Ii is ordinary with them to iee houses, gardens, and 
trees, in places void ofall three ; and this in progiess of 
time uses to be accomplished : as at IVlogshot,in the isle 
of Skie, where there weie but a (iew sorry cowhouses, 
thaiclied with straw, >et in a few years after, the vi 
sion, which appealed often, was accomplished, by the 
building of several good houses on the very sput repie 
sented by the seers, and by the planting of orchards 
there. 

'• To see a spark of fire fall upon one's arm or breast, 
is a forerunner of a dead child to be seen in the arms of 
those persons 5 of which there are several fresh in 
stances. 

" To s«e a seat empty at the lime of one's sitting in 
it, is a presage of that person's deatli soon after. 

" When a novice, or one that h.ts lately o'ltained the 
second sight, sees a vision in the night-time without 
doors, and coines near a fire, he presently falls into a 
swoon 

" Some find themselves as it were in a crowd of peo- 
ple, having a corpse which they carry along with lliemj 
and after such visions the seers come in sweating and 
describe the people that appeared ; if there be any of 
their acquaintance among 'em, they give an account ot 
theit naiwes, as also of the bearers, but they know 
nothing concerning the corpse, 

" All those who^have the eecond-sightdo not always 
see tliese visions at onc«, though they be together at 
the time. But if one who has this faculty, designedly 
touch his fellow seer at the instant of a vision's appe!*r- 
ing, then the second sees it as well as the first ; and 
this is sometimes discerned by those that are near them 
on 6uchocc.isi(>ns."-^JI/artm's lJesc7-i-ption of the TVta 
Urn Islands, 1776, 6vo. p. 300. et seq. 



NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 165 

To tliese particulars innumerable examples might be 
added, all attested by grave and credible authors. But 
in despite of evidence, which neitlier Bacon, Boyle, 
nor Johnson were able to resist, the Taisch, with all 
its visionary properties, seems to be now universally 
abandoned to tlie use of poetry. The eiquisitely beau- 
tiful poem of Lochiel will at once occur to tlie recollec- 
tion of every reader. 

Note VII. 

Here for retreat in dangerous hour, 

Same chief had framed a rustic bower. 

Stanza xxv. line 11. 

The Celtic chieftains whose lives were continually 
exposed to peril, had usually in the most retired spot of 
their domains, some place of retreat for the hour of 
necessity, which, as circumstances would admit, was a 
tower, a cavern, or a rustic hut, in a strong and secluded 
situation. One of these last gave refuge to the unfor- 
tunate Charles Edward, in his perilous wanderings 
after the battle of Culloden. 

"It was situated in the face of a very rough, high 
and rocky mountain, called Lelterni lichk, still a part of 
Benalder, full of great stones and crevices, and some 
Bcattered wood interspersed. The habitation called 
the Cage, in the face of that mountain, was within a 
small thick bush of wood. There were first some rows 
of trees laid down, in order to level a floor for a habita- 
tion ; and as the place was steep, this raised the lower 
side to an equnl height with the other ; and these trees, 
in the way ot joists or planks, were levelled with earth 
and gravel, 'i'here were betwixt the trees, growing 
naturally on their own roots, some stakes fixed in ilie 
earth, which with the trees, we:e interwoven with 
ropes made of heath and birch twigs, up to the top of 
the Cage, it being of a round or ratlier oval shape ; and 
the whole thatched and covered over with log. The 
whole fabric hung, as it were, by a large tiee, which 
reclined from one end all along the roof, to the other, 
and which gave it the name of a Cage, and by chance 
there happened to be two stones at a small distance from 
one another, in the side next (he precipice, resembling 
the pillars of a chimney, where the fire was placed. — 
The smoke had its vent out here, all along the fall of 
the rock, which was so much of the same colour, that 
one could discover no difference in the clearest day."— 
Homers History of the Rebellion,Lond. 16U2. 4to. p. 181. 

Note VIII. 
My sire's tall form mirrht grace the part 
OfFerragus or Aseabart. Stanza xxviii. line 13. 



ISG NOTES TO CANTO FIRST, 

These two sons of Anak flourished in romantic fable. 
The first is well known to tlie admirers of Ariosto, by 
the name of Ferrau. He was an antagonist of Orlando, 
and was at length slain by him in a single combat. — 
There is a romance in liie Auchinleck MS., in which 
Ferragus is thus described,^ 

" On a day come tiding 
Unto Cliarls the king^ 

Al of a doiigliti knight 
Was comen to Navers, 
Stout he was and fers, 

Veruaguhe hight. 
Of B;ib)l:iun ihe soudan 
Thider him senile gan, 

With king Cliarls to fi-jlit. 
So haid he was to-1'oiid [o] 
That no dint of brond 

rv'o c;ieued hi»n apliglit. 
He haddetwenti men strengthe, 
And fc-iurti let of lengthe. 

Thilke pninim liedt", (b) 
And fourftet in the face, 
Y-melen (c) in the place, 

And fliteen in brede. (d) 
His nose was a fot and more ; 
His brow, as brestless wore ; (e) 

He that it seigheit eede. 
He looked lotheliche, 
And was swart, (/) as any piche, 

Of him men might adrede." 

Romance of Charlemagne, 1. 461-484. Auchinleck MS. 
fol. 265. 
Ascapart, or Ascabart, makes n very material figure 
in the History of Bevis of Hampton, by whom he was 
conquered. His effigies may be seen guarding one side 
of gate at Southampton, while the «ither is occupied 
by Sir Bevis himself. The dimensions of Ascapart 
weie little inferior to those of Ferragus, if the following 
description be correct ; — 

" They metten with a geaunt. 
With a lotheliche semhiaunt. 
He was wonderliche strong : 
Rome ig) thretti folelong. 

[o] Found, proved. (J) Had. (c) Measure, (d) 
Breadth, (e) Were. (J'), (g) Found, proved. 



NOTKS TO CANTO FIRST. 167 

His bred was both gret and rowe ; (h) 

A space of a fot betwene is (j) browe; 

Ilisclob was, to yeue (&) asirok, 

A lite bodi of an oak. (l) 

Bues haddeof him wonder gret, 

And askede him what a het (.7/1) 

And yaf (71) men of his contre 

Werease meche (e) ase was he. 

' Mename,'asede,(p) 'is Ascopard; 

Garci me sent hideward, 

For to bring this quene aj'en, 

And the Beues her of-slen (5) 

Icam Garci is (r) chanpioun, 

And was i driue out of me (s) toun, 

Al for that ich was so lite, {t) 

Eueri man me wolde smite, 

Ich was so lite and so merugh, [u] 

Eueri man me clepede dwerugh. [y] 

And now icham in this londe, 

I wax mor [w] ich understonde, 

And strenjrere than other tene ; [z] 

And thai schel on us he sene.'' 
Sir Bevis of Ilamplon, I. 25 l-J. Anchinleck MS. fol. 189. 
Note IX. 
Though all unmasked Ms birth and name, St, xxix 

line TO 
'J'he highlanders, who carried hospitality to a puncti- 
lious excess, are said to have considered it as churlish, 
to nsk a stranger his name or lineage, before he had 
taken refreshment. Feuds weie so frequent among 
them, that a contrary rule would, in many cases, have 
p roduced the discovery of some circumstance, which 
might have excluded the guest from the benefit of the 
assistance he stood in need of. 

Note X. 

^nd still ahaip unseen, 

Filled up the symphony between. Stanza xxx. line 21 . 
♦' They (meaning the highlanders) delight much in 
musicke, but chiefly in harps and clairschoes of their 
own fashion. The strings of the clairschoes are made 
of brass jf'ire, and the strings of the harps of sinews; 
which strings they strike either with theittnayIes,grow 

Fally. {h) Rough. ii)ms. (k) Give. (I) The stem 
of a little oak tree, (m) He hight. was called, (n) If. 
{0) Great, (p) He said, (q) Slay. \r) His. (s) My. (t) 
Little, (u) Lean, (u) Dwarf, (to) Greater^ tall«r 
(z) Ten. 



168 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 

ing Icng, or else with an instrument appointed Ibr that 
use. They take great pleasure to decke their harps 
and clairschoes with silver and precious stones ; the 
poor ones that cannot attaj'neliereunto,deck them with 
christall. They sin? verses prettily compound, contay- 
ning ( for the most part) prayses of valiant men. There 
18 not almn.Many other argument, wiiereof their rhymes 
intreat. They speak the ancient French language, al- 
tered a little. ''t—" The harp and clairschoes are now 
heard of in ancient song only in the highlands. At 
what period these instruments ceased to be used, is not 
on record; and tradition is silent on this head. But as 
Irish harpers occasionally visited the highland and wes- 
tern isles till lately, the harp might have been extant so 
late as the middle of the present century. Thus far we 
know, that from remote limes down to the present, 
harpers were received as welcome guests, particularly 
in the highlands of Scotland ; and so late as the lat- 
ter end of the sixteenth century, as appears by the 
above quotation, the hatp was in common use among 
the natives of the western isles. How it happened 
that the noisy and inharmonious bagpipe banished the 
soft and expressive harp, we cannot say •, but certain 
it is, that the bagpipe is now the only instrument 
that obtains universally in the highland districts."— 
Campbell's Journeys through Great Britain, Lend, 
1808. 4to 1.175. 

Mr. Gunn, of Edinburgh, has lately published a cu- 
rious essay upon the harp and harp music of the high- 
lands of Scotland. That the instrument was once in 
common use there is incst certain. Cleland nunibers 
an acquaintance with it among the few accomplish- 
ments which his satiie allows to the highlanders •, 

In nothing they're accounted sharp, 
Except in bagpipe or in harp. 

t Vide " Certeyne matters concerning the realms of 
Scotland, &c. as they were anno Domini 1597. Lend. 
1603." 4to. 



NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 



Note I, 
Morn's genial ivfluence roused aminstrel gray. St.i. 1.7. 

That highland chieftains, to a late period retained in 
their sei vice the bard, as a family officer, admits of ve- 
ry easv prouf. The aulhorof the letlt-rs from Scotland, 
an officer of engineers, quartered at Inverness ahout 
1720, who certainly cannot be deeand a favourable 
witness, gives the following accounl of the office, and 
of a bard, whom he heard exercise liis talent of recita- 
tion. 

" The bard is skilled in the gentaV»gy of all the high- 
land families, sometimes precepiorto the young laird, 
celebrates in Irish verse the original of the tribe, the fa- 
mous warlike actions of ihe successive heads, and 
sings his own lyricks as an opiate to the chief, when 
indisposed for sleep ; but poets a e not equally esteem- 
ed and honoured in all coun'rie-!. I liappened to be a 
witness of the dishonour Cor^f Ut Uie muse, at the house 
of one of Ihe chi«^fs, where two of these bards were set 
at a good distance, at the lover end of a long table, 
with a parcel of hifthlanders, of no extraordinary ap- 
pearance, over a cup of ale. Poor inspiration ! 

'• They were not asked to drink a glass of wine at 
oHr table, though the whole company consisted only of 
the great man, one of his near relations, and myself. 

"•Aftei some little time, the chief ordered one of them 
to sing me a highland song. The bard readily obeyed, 
and with a hoarse voice, and in a tone of (aw various 
notes, began a.-? I was told, one of his own lyricks ; and 
wlien he had proceeded to the fourth and fifth stanza,' I 
perceived by the names of several persons, glens and 
mountains, which I had known or heard of before, that 
it was an account of some clan battle. But in this go- 
ing on, the chief (who piques himself upon his school- 
learning) at some particular passage bid him cease, and 
cried out, " There's nothing like that in Virgil or Ho- 
mer," I bowed, and lold him I believed so. This you 
may believe was very ediiying and delightful.''— X.««- 
ters from Scotland^ II. 107. 

Note II. 
The Graeme. Stanza vi. line 23. 

The ancient and powerful family of Graham, "whicli 
for ruetrical leusuaaj is here spelled alter the ScoUisIa 

11 



170 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 

pronunciation," lield extensive possessions in the coun- 
ties of Dnmbrirton and Stirling. Pew families can 
boast o( more historical renown, liavinc claim to three 
of the mcst remarkable characters in the Scottish an- 
nals. Sir John the Gu-Eine, the faitlifiil and und;iunted 
partaker of the labours and p•^trlotic warfare of Wal- 
lace, fell in the unfortunate field of Falkirk, in 1298. 
The celebrated Marquis of Moniiose. in whom De 
Rete saw realized his abstract idea of the heroesof an- 
tiquit}', was tlie second of these woithies And, not- 
withstanding the severity of his temper, and the rigour 
with which he executed the oppressive mandates of 
the prince=5 whom he served, I do udt liesitate to name 
as the thud, John Graham, of Claverhouse, viscount of 
Dundee, wiiose heroic deaih, in the arms of victory, 
may be believed to cancel the memory of his cruelty to 
the nonconformists, during the reigns of Charlea II, 
and James II. 

Note III. 
TbAs harp which erst Saint Modan swayed. St. vii.1.18. 
1 atn not prepared to show that St. Modan was a 
performer on the harp. It was, however, no un saintly 
accompiishiiieni ; for St. Dunslaii ceitainly did play 
upon that instrument, which retaining, as was natural, 
a portion ofthe sanctity attached to its master's charac- 
ter, announced future events by i's spontaneous sound. 
"But i"bouring once in these mechanic arts for a de- 
voutematrone that hud sett him on worke, his voill 
that hung by him on the wall, ofitsowne accord, with- 
out anie man's helpe, distinctly sounded this anthime ; 
Oaudent in calls animcB sanctorum qui Christi vesti- 
gia sunt secuti .- et quia jyro cius amorc sanguinem suum 
fvderuiit, idea cum Christo gaudent in mternum. 
Whereat all the companie being much astonished, 
turned their ey>"s from behnulding him working, to 
looke on that strange accident." '' Not long after, ma- 
nie of the court that hiiJierunto had born a kind of fayn- 
ed friendship towards him, began now grately to en- 
vie at bis progresse and rising in goodness, using manie 
crooked backbiting means to diffiime hisvertues with 
the black maikes of bypocrise. And the better to au- 
thorise their calumnie, they brought in this that hap- 
pened in the violl, affirming it to have been done by art 
niagick. What more.' this wicked rumour encreased 
dayly, till the king and otiiers of the nobilitie taking 
bould thereof, Dunstan g-ew odious in their sight. 
Therefore he resolved tw leave tiie court, and goe to El- 
phegus. t-uruamed the Eald, tlien bishop of Winchester, 
who was hi? ozen. Which his cnemiea understanding 



NOTES TO CANTO SECOxND. 173 

they layed wayte for him in the way, and hsning 
tlirovvne him off his horse, beat him, and draeed him 
in the duri in the most miserable manner, meaning 
to haue slain him, had not a conipanie of ma&tiue 
dogges, that came unlookt uppon them, defemled and 
redeemed him their (;uiu tiiieitie. When with sor- 
row he was ashamed to see dogges more Jiumane 
than they. And puing thankes to Almiglitie God, 
he, sensibly again perceaued that the tunes of Jns 
villi! had giuen hmi a warning of future accidents." 
Flozcer of the Lives of the viost reiiowned Saints of 
Enirland, Scotland' and Ireland, by the R. Father 
Hierome Porter. JJoway, 1632, 4to. 'iome I. p. 4:^8. 

The same supernatural circumstance is alluded to 
by the anonymous author of " Ginn, the CoJher of 
Crojdon." 
*' [D7i.nstan''sharp sounds onthetcall.] 

Forest. Hark, liark, my lord, the holy abbot's harp 
Sounds by itself so hanging on the wall! 

Dunstan. Unhallowed man, that scorn'st the sa- 
cred read. 

Hark, how the testimony of my truth 
Sounds heavenly music with an angel's hand, 
To testify Duii&tan's integrity. 
And prove thy active boast of no effect," 
Note IV 

Ere Douglases to ruin driven. 

Were exiled from their native heaven. St. viii.1. 9. 

1 he downfal of the Douglases of the house of An 
gus, duiing the reign of James V. is the event alluded 
to in the text. 'J he earl of Angus, it will be lemem- 
bercd, had married the queen dowager, and availed 
himself ol the right which he thus acquned, as weil as 
of his extensive power, to retain the King in a sort of 
tutelage, which appmacbed very near to captivity. 
JSeveial open attempts weie mnde to rescue Jame:> horn 
this ihralilcm, with which be was well-known to be 
deeply di.-gu?led ; but the valour of the Douglasses, 
and their allies, gave Ihem the victory in eveiy con- 
flict. Atleng h, the kmg, while residing at Falkland, 
contrived to escape by night out of his own court and 
palace, and rode full speed to Stirling Castle, where 
the governor, who was of tlip ojposite faction, joyfully 
received him Being thus at liberty, James speedily 
summoned around him such peers as he knew to be 
most inimical to the domination of Angus, and laid his 
complaint before them, says, Pitscoltie, " with great 
lauitntaticn'-- ; showing to them how he wasliolden in 



172 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 

subjection, their years bygone, by the earl of Angus, 
and his kin and friends, who oppressed the whole 
country, and spoiled it under tiio pretence of justice 
and his authority ; and liad slain many of his leges, 
kinsmen and friends, because tiiey would have had it 
mended at their hand^, and put him at liberty, as he 
ouaht to have been, at the counsel of iiis whole lords, 
and not liave been subjected and corrected with no pai'- 
ticular men, by the rest of liis nobles; Thereiore, said 
he, I desire my lords, tliat I may be satisfied of the 
said eail, his kin, and friends: fori avow, that Scot- 
land shall not hold us bolli, while (i. e, till) I be re- 
venged on him and his. 

" The lords hearing the king's complaint and lamen- 
tation, and also the great rage, fury, and malice, that 
lie bare toward the eail of Angus, his kin and friends, 
ihey concluded all and thought it best, that he should 
be summoned to underly the law ; if he fand not cau- 
tion, nor yet compear himself, that he should be put 
to the norn, with all his kin and friends, so many as 
were contained in the letters. And fmtJier, the lords 
ordained, by advice of his majesty, that his brother and 
friends should be summoned to find caution to underly 
the law within a certain day, or eLe be put to the horn. 
But the earl appeared not, nor none for hhn •, and so he 
was put to the horn, with all his kin and friends: so 
many as were contained in the summons, that com- 
pared not, were banished, and holden traitors to the 
king." — Lindscy of Pitscoltie's History of Scotland, 
Edinburgh, fol. p. 142. 

Note V. 
In Hohjrood a knigJit he slew. Stanza xii. line 5. 

This was by no means an uncommon occurrence in 
the court of Scotland; nay, the jtresence of ilie sove- 
reign himself scarcely restrained the ferocious and 
inveterate feuds, which were the perpetual source of 
bloodshed among the Scottish nobility. The following 
instance of the murder of Sir George Stuart of Ochil- 
tree, called 77/,e5Zo«/(/, by the celebrated Francis, earl 
of Bothwell, may be produced amcaig many ; but as the 
offence given in the royal coutt will hardly bear a ver- 
nacular translation, I shall leave the story in John- 
stoue's Latin, referring for further particulars lo the 
naked simplicity of Birrell's Diriry, 30th July, 1588. 

" Mors improbi hominis non tarn ipsa immerila, quam 
pessimo exemple in publicum fcRde perpetrata. Guliel- 
zrius Siuartiis Alkiltrius. Arani frater, natura ac moribus, 
ciijusscopius meraini, vulgo propter sitim sanguinis $an- 



'-'^■'■'^llfei*". 



NOTES TO CANTO SECOND . 173 

gulnarius dictiis. a Boihvero, in Sanctoe Crucis Regia, 
exardescentre ira, tneiidacii protd'o lacessitus, obscoe 
inim osculum liberius letorquebat •, Botvelius haiic con- 
tumeliarii lacilus tiilii, sed iii'ieiifem irarum molem 
animo coiicrepk. Utvinque postridie Ediiiburai con- 
ventum, totidem nniiiero comitibiis armatis, prfe^idii 
causa, et. aciiter pii>znatuin est; cceteris amicis et cli- 
emibus nietii torpentilms, aut vi nbsteriitis, ipse Stunrtus 
fortissinie demicat, tandem excusso sladio a Botlivelio, 
scylhica feritate transfoditur, sine ciijiisquain misericor- 
dia ; habiiii itnqiie quein debuit exiliim. Dignus erat 
Stuartus qui paieretur ; Bothvelius qui faceret. Vulgua 
sansruinem s.iriiiuiiie I'rredicabat, et horinn ciuore iiuio- 
cuorum manilius eiiresie parenlalnm " — R. Juhnstoni 
Ilistoria Reriini Britannicariiin, ab anno 1572, ad an- 
num 1628. Am stelodami, 1655, fol, p. 135. 
Note VI. 
The Douglas, like a stricken deer, 
Disowned by every noble peer. St. xii. line 13. 
The exile state of this powerful race is not exag^erafed 
in lh;s and subsequent passaces. The hntied of James 
against the race of Douglas was so inveterate, that 
numerous as iheir allies were, and disie^arded as the 
regal authority had usually been in similar cases, their 
nearest friends, even in the most remote parts of Scot- 
land, durst not entertain them, unless under the strictest 
and closest d sguise. James Douglas, son of the banished 
earl of Angus, afterwards well known by the title of earl 
Morton, lurked, danni,' the exile of his family, in the 
north of Scotland, under the assumed name of Jam s 
Ituies, otherwise James the Grif-ve, (i- e. Reve or 
liailifF) " And as lie bore the name," says Godscroft, 
" so also did he execute the office of a gneve or over- 
seer of ttj lands and re>»it:, tlie coin arid cattle of him 
with whom h-; lived."' Kro'.n the habits of frueality 
and oliservation, which he acquired in this humble situa- 
tion, the historian traces that inlimnte acquaintance 
wnh popular characier, which enabled him to rise so 
hisih in the state, and that honorable economy by which 
he repaired and estahiished the shattered estates of 
An2!us and Morton. — History of the House of Douglas. 
Edinburgh, 1743, vol. II. p. IGO. 

Note Vll. 

Maronnan's cell. Stanza xii line 15. 

The parish of Kilmarnock, at the eastern extremityof 
Loch Lomond, 'derives its name from a cell or chapel, 
dedicated to St, Maronnoch, or Marnoch, about whose 
14* 



174 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND, 

sanctity very little is now remembered. There Is a 
fountain devoted to him in the same parish, but its 
virtues, like the merits of its patron, have lallen into 
oblivion. 

Note VIII. 
BracJdinn^s thundering wave. St. xiv. I. 4. 

This is a beautiful cascade made at a place called the 
Pridge of Brticklinii, by a moui.tain stream cnl.ed ihe 
Keltie, about a mile frotn the viliaye of Callender, in 
Menteith. Above a chasm where the brnok precipitates 
it^ell froHi a hei.;)it o at least fifiy ieet, there is thrown, 
for the coiiveiiieiice of the neii>hbnurhooi1, a rustic foot 
bridge.of aljuut three feet in breadth, and without ledi^eg, 
which is scarcely to be crossed by a stranger witliout 
awe and apprehension. 

Note IX. 

For Tyneman forged by fairy lore. St. xv. 1. 14. 

Archibald, the third earl of Douglas, was so unfortu- 
nate in all his enterprises, that lie acqui ed the epithet 
of Tinemati, because he lined or lost Ills Ibllovvers in 
every battle which he fought. He was vanquished, as 
every reader must remember, in ths bkuidy battle of 
Honuldduhiil, near Wuoler, where he himseh lust an 
eye, and was made prisoner by Hotspur. He was no 
less unfortunate when allied with Percy, being wounded 
and taken at the battle of t^hrewsbury. He was so un- 
successful in an attempt to besiege Roxburgh Castle, 
that it was called the Foul Raid, or disgraLelul expedi- 
tion. His ill lortune left him indeed at the battle of 
Beaus;e, in Fiance; but it was only to re'urn with 
double emphasis,as tlie subsequent action of Vernoil. the 
last and most unlucky of his encoimlers, in which he 
fell, with the flower of ihe Scottish chivalry then 
serving as auxiliaries in France, and about two thou- 
sand common soldiers, A.D. 1424. 
Note X. 
Did self-7inscahbarded, foreshow, 
The footstep of a secret foe. St. XV. 1. 7, 

The ancient warriors, whose hope and confidence 
rested chiefly in their blades, were accustomed to de- 
duce omens from thi^m, especially from such as were 
supposed to have been fal)ricaled by enchanted skill, 
of which we hiive various instances in the romances 
and legends of the time, 'J'Jie wonderful swoid Skoff- 
niLvg, wielded by the celebrated Hrolf 8kiaka, was of 
this deicription. It was deposited in the tomb of the 
monarch at his death, and taken from thence by Skeggo, 
a celebrated pirate, who bestowed it upon hi« son-in-iaw 



N0TE3 TO CANTO SECOND. 175 

Koimak, with the following curious directions: "The 
manner of using it will appear strange to you. A small 
bag is attached to it, which take heed not to violate. 
Let not the rays of the sun touch the upper part of the 
handle, nor unsheath it till thou ait ready lor battle. 
But, when thou come'rt to the place of fijiht, io aside 
from the rest, grasp and extend the swoid, and breathe 
upon it Then a small worni will crtep out of the 
handle: lower the handle, that he may mo; e easily re- 
turn into it " Kormak, after having received ihe sword, 
returned home to his mother. He showed the sword, 
and attempted to draw it, as unnecessarily as inefiec- 
tua.'Iy, for he cnuld not pluck it out of the sheath. His 
niolher Dalla exclaimed : «' Do not despise the counsel 
given to thee, my son." Kormak, hiwever, repealing 
his effjfts, pressed down the hawdle with his feet, and 
t(ire off the bag, when Skoffnung emitted a hollow groan. 
But still he cou^d not unsheath the sword. Kormak 
then went out with Bessus, whom he had challenged to 
fi.'ht with him, and drew apart at the place ot combat. 
He sat down uycin the ground, and ungirded the sword, 
which he hore above his vestmenis. and did not remem- 
ber to shield the hi:t from the rays of the sun. ]n vain 
he endeavoured to draw it, till he placed his foot 
against the hilt •, then the worm issued from it. But 
Kormak did not rightly handle the weapon, in con. 
feqiience whereof good fortune deserted it. As he 
unsheathed Sk( ffnun?, it emiited a hollow murmur.*' 
Bartholini de Causis ContevtptcR aDanis adhuc Oenti- 
libus Mortis, Libdi Tres. Hajvim, 1639, 4to. p. 574. 

To the histoiy of this sentient and piescient weapon, 
I beg leave to add, from memory, the following legend 
for which I cannot produce any better authority. A 
young nobleman, of high hopes and fortune, chanced 
to lose his way in Ihe town which he inhabited, tho 
capital, if I mistake not, of a German province. He had 
accidentally involved him?elf anions the narrow and 
Windinc streets of a subuib. inhabited by the lowest 
order of the people, and an approachinc thunder shower 
determined h m to ask a short lefufie in the most 
decent habitation that was near him. He knocked at 
the door, which was opened by a tall man, of grisly and 
ferocious aspect, and sordid dress. The strnngei was 
re dii.\ ushe:ed to a chamber where swords, scourges, 
and machines, which seemed to be imp'ements of tor- 
ture, were suspended on the wall. One of these 
swords dropt fiom his scabbard, as the nobleman, alter 
a moment's hesitation, crossed the threshold. His host 
imm«diately itared at him with such a marked exprtw- 



1% NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 

s«ion, that the young man could not heJp denian(!ir,>2 
his name and businees, and the meaning of his looking 
at him so fixedly. "lam," answered the man, " ilie 
public executioner of this city; and the incident vou 
lia\e observed is a sure angury, that I shall, in dis- 
cJiaige ol my duty, one day cut off your head with the 
Aveiipon which h;ts j.ist now spontaneously uiis^heaihed 
itself." Tlie nobleman lost no lime m leiivins; his place 
of refuge ; but, engaging in some of the plots of tJie 
period, was shortly after decapitated by ihat very man 
and instrument. 

Lord Lovat is said, by the author of the Letters from 
Fcothmd, to haveafflimed, that a number ol swords that 
hungupintheliallot'the mansion-house, leaped ol them- 
selves out of the scabbards at llie insfint he was born. 
This story passed cuireut among liisclan, but, like ihat 
of the story 1 have just quoted, proved an unfoitunatc 
om&n.— Letters from Scotland^ vol. II. p. 214. 
Note XL 

The Pihroch yroud. Stanza xvii. lineS. 

The connoisseurs in pipe-music affect to discover in a 
well-composed pibroih, the imitative sounds ol' march, 
conflict, flight, pursuit, and all the " tuirent ofa heady 
Jigbt." To this opinion, Dr, Bealtie his given his 
suffrage in the following elegant passage. " A pibroch 
is a species oftune peculiar, 1 think, to the highlands and 
western isles of Scotland. It is performed on a bagpipe, 
and differs tolally from all otber music. Its ryliim is so 
irregular, and its notes, especially in the quick movement , 
so mixed and huddled together, that a slranaer finds it 
impossible to reconcile liis ear to it, so as to perceive its 
modulation. Some of these pibrochs, being intended to 
xepiesent a battle, begin with a grave motion, resembling 
a march ; then gradually quicken mlo the onset ; run off 
with noisy contusion, and turbulent rapidity, to imiiate 
theeonflictand pursuit; then swell into a few flourishes 
of triuntpbantjoy ; and perhaps close with the wild and 
slow wailings of a funeral procession" — Ensay on 
Laughter and Ludicrous Composition, chap. lU. note. 
Note XII. 
JRoderlgk vich Alpine dku, ho! iero! St. xix. line 10. 
Besides his ordinary name and surname, which were 
chiefly used in his iute; course with the lowlands, every 
highland chief had an epitbet expressive of his patri- 
archid dignity as head of the clan, and which was com- 
mon to all his predecessors and successors, as Pharaiih to 
the kings of Egypt, or Arsacesto those of Farthia. I'his 
ncime was usually a patronymic expressive of hi? desceii- 



?fOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 17i 

from the founiler of the family. Thus the son of the 
Duke of Arpyle is called Mac Callanmore, or the Son of 
Colin the Great. Sometimes, however, it is derived 
from armorial distinctions, or the memory of some great 
feat ; thus Lord Seaforth, a^ chief of the MackenzitS; or 
Claii-Kennet, bears the epithet of Caberfae, or Buck's 
Head, as representative of Colin Fitzge;a!d, founder 
of the family who saved the Scottish i<mg, when eii- 
dangert'd hy a stag. But besides this title, which iie- 
longed to his office and dignity, the chieftain hadnsually 
another peculiar to hirnseif, which distinguibhed him 
from the chiefiains of the same race. This was scnae- 
times derived trom complexion, as dhu or roy ; some- 
time, as beg or more ; at other times, from fcome par- 
ticular exploit, or trom some peculiarity of liabit or 
appearance. 'I'he line of the text, therefore signities, 
Black Roderick, the descendant of Alpine. 

The song itself is intended as an imitation of the sor- 
ravis, or boat songs of the liighlandeis. which were 
usually composed fn honour of a favourite chief. I'hey 
are so adapted as to keep time with the sueep of the 
oars, and it is easy to distinguish between those intended 
to be sung to the oars of a galley, where the stroke 
is lengthened and doubled as it were, and those which 
were timed to the rowers of an ordinary boat- 
Note Xlfl. 
The best of Loch-Lomond lie dead at her side. 

Stanza ix. line 4, 
The Lennox, as the district is called which encircles 
the lower extremity of Loch-Lomond, was peculiarly 
exposed to the incursions of the miuntaineers, who in- 
habited the inaccess'ble fastness at the i:pper end of the 
lake, and the neighbouring district of Lodi-Katrine. 
These were often marked by circumstances of great 
ferocity, of which ihe noted conflict of Glenfruln is a 
celebrated instatsce. 'J'his was a clan-battle, m which 
the Macgregors, headed byAllaster Macgiegor, chief of the 
clan, encountered the sept of Colquhonns, commanded 
by Humphrey Colquhcun of JjU'^is. It is on all hands al- 
lowed, that the action was desperately fowght, and that 
the Co'quhonns were defe.ilfd with slaughter, leaving 
two hundred of their name dead upon the field. Uut 
popular liailiiion has added oilier horrors to the tale. It 
is said, that Sir Humphrey Colquhoun, who was on 
horseback, escaped to the Castle of Eenechra, orBano- 
char, and the next day was dragged out and murdered 
l»y the victoriGUS ^ila-gregors in cold blood. Buchan 



178 KOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 

nan of Auchmar, however, spealcs of his slaughter as s 
Etibsequent event, and as perpetrated by the Rlacfar 
lanes. Again it is reported that tiie Mapregors murdered 
a number of youths, wiiom report of ilie intended battle 
had brought to be tjiectators, and wlioni ihe Colqulioiins- 
anxious tor their safely, had shut up in a barn to be 
out of dancer. One account of the Macciegcis denies 
this circumsiance entirely ; another ascribed it to the 
savage and bloodthirsty disposition of a single indi- 
vidual, the bastard broiher of the laird of Mucgregor, 
who amused himsell with this second massacre of the 
innocents, in express disobedience to the chief, by 
whom he was lelt their guardian during tbe pursuit of 
theCo'quhouns. It is adued, that IMacgiegor bitterly 
lamented this atrocious action, and prophesied the ruin 
•which it must bring upon their ancient clan. The fol- 
lowing account of the conflict, which is indeed drawn 
up by a friend of the clan Gregor, is altogether silent on 
the murder of the youths. " In tbe spring of the year 
3602, there happened great dissentions and troubles 
between the laird of Luss, chief of the Colquhouns, and 
Alexander, laird of Macgregor. The original of these 
quarrels proceeded fiouj injuries and provocations 
jnulually given and received, not long before. Mac- 
gregor, however, wanting to have them ended in friendly 
conferences, marched at the heud of two hundred of his 
clan, to Leven, which borders on Luss, his country, 
with a view of settling matters by the mediation of his 
friends; but Luss had no such intentions, and projected 
its measure with a ditferent view ; for he privately 
drew together a body of 300 horse and 500 foot, com- 
posed partly of his uwn clan and tbeir followeis, and 
partly of tbe Euchannans, his neijjhbors, and resohed 
to cut ofl^ Macgregor and bis party to a man, in cate the 
issue of tbe confeience did not answer his inclination. 
But matters fell otherways than he expected; and 
though Macgi-egor had previous information of his insi- 
dious design, yet dissembling his resenimenthe kept 
the appointment, and parted good Iriends in appear- 
ance. 

•' No sooner was he gone than TiUss, thinking to sur- 
prise him and his paity in full security, and without 
any dread or apprehension of his treachery, followed 
with all speed, and came up wish him at a place called 
Glenfroon. Macgregor, upon the alarm, divided his 
men into two parties, tbe greatest part whereof he 
commanded himself, and the other he committed to tlie 
caie of his broiher John, who by his orders, led them 
about another way, and attacked the Colquhouns in 



NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 179 

fiank. Here it wa8 fought with creat bravery on lioth 
sileg for a considerable time, and nolvvilh-tandiiig the 
vast disproportion of numbers, Mac^jregor, in the end, 
obtained an al)Solutfc victory. So great was the rout, 
that 200 of the Co'qnhoun^ were left dead upon the 
spot, most of the leadinii men were liilled. and a mul- 
titude of prisoners taken. But what seemed most sur- 
prising and incredible in this defeat, was that none of 
the M.igregors were missing except John, the laird's 
brother, and one common fellow, though indeed many 
of them were wounded." — Professor Ross's History of 
the Family of Sm her land, 1631, 

The consequences of the battle of Glenfruin were 
very calamitous to the family of Macgregor, who had 
already been considered as an unruly clan. The 
widows of the slain Colquhouns, sixty it is said, in 
number, appeared in doleful procession before the king, 
at Stirling, each riding upon a white palfrey, and bear- 
ing in her h;irid the bloody shirt of herlmsband, display- 
ed upon a pike. James VI. was so much moved by tho 
complaints of tiiis " choir of mournful dames,'' that he 
let loose his vengeance against the Wacgre^ors without 
bounds 01 moderation. The very name of the clan wag 
prescribed, and those by whom it had been borne were 
given up to sword and fire, and absolutely hunted down 
by bloodhounds like wild beasts. Arcyle and the 
Campbells on the one hand, Montrose, with the Gra- 
harnes and Bnchannans on the other, are said to have 
been the chief instruments in suppressing this devoted 
clan. The laird of Macgresor surrendered to thefor- 
mer, on condition, that he would take him out of 
Scottish ground. But, to use Birrell's e.\pression, he 
kept "a hi<;hlandman's piomise;" and, although he 
fulfilled his word to the letter by carrying him as far as 
Berwick, he afterwards brought him back to Edinburgh, 
where he was executed with eighteen of his c'an.— £ir- 
reWs Diary, 2d October, 1(103. The clan Gresor being 
thus driven to utter despair, seem to have renounced 
the laws from the benefil of which they were excluded, 
and their depied.tiions produced a new act of rouncil, 
confirming the severity of their proscription, which had 
only ihrt effect of rendering them still more united and 
desperate. It is a most extraordinary proof of the ardent 
and invincible spirit of clanship, that notwithstanding 
the r<»p<^ated proscriptions proviilentlv oidained by the 
legislature " for" the timemtx preventr<3§: the disorders 
and oppression ih it may fall out by the saiil name and 
clan of* Macfrregorg, and their followers, 'thfy weie in 
1715 and 1745 a potent clan, nnd , roiitinue to subtiist a« 
» distinct and numetous race 



180 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 

Note XIV. 

The kiiig''s vindictive prids 

Boasta to have tamed the Border-side. St. xxviii. 
line Jl. 

In 15'i9j James V. made a convention at Edinburgh, 
for the purpose of considering the ))pst mode of queuing 
the Border robbers, who, durinir tli« license of his mi- 
nority, andihe troubles which followed, had committed 
many exorbitancies. Accordingly, he assembled a fly im' 
army of ten thousand men, consisting of his principal 
nobility and their followers, who were directed to bring 
their hawks and dogs with them, that the monarch 
might refresh himself with sport during the intervals of 
militaty execution. With this array he swept through 
Ettrick forest, where he hanged over tiie gate of his own 
castle, Piers Cockburn of Hende)!and, who had prepar- 
ed, according to tradition, a feast for his reception. He 
caused AA^m Scott of Tushielaw also to be executed, 
who was distinguished by the title of King of the border. 
But the most noted victim of justice, during the expe- 
dition, was John Armstrong of Gilnockie, famous in 
Scottish song, who confiding in his own supposed in- 
nocence, met the king, with a retinue of thirty-six 
persons, all of whom were hanaed at Carlcnrig, near tlte 
source of the Teviot. The effect of this severity was 
such, that as the vulgar expressed it, " The rush bush 
kept the cow," and ''thereafter was ereat peace and 
lest a long time, wliereihiough the king had great 
profit; for he had ten thousand slieep going in the 
Ettricke forest in keeping by Andrew Hell, who made 
the king as good count of them as they had gone in lite 
bounds of Fife." Pitscottie's Histonj, p. 153. 

Note XV. 
What (Trace for Highland chief s judge ye. 
By fate of Border chivalry. Stanza xxv)ii. line 29. 
James was, in fact, equally attentive to restrain ra- 
pine and feudal oppression in every part of his domains, 
*' The king past to the isles, and there field justice 
courts, and puni.'^hed both thief and traitor accoruing to 
their demerit. And also he caused great men to show 
their holdings, wherethrough he found many of the said 
lands in none-entry; the which he confiscated and 
brought home to his own use, and afterward annexed 
them to tlie crown as ye sliall hear. Syne brought many 
of the great men of the isles captive with him, such as 
Mudyart, IM'Connell, M'l-oyd of the Lewes, M'Ncal, 
fclvLane, M'lntosh, John Mudyart, M'Kay, M'Kenzics, 
Witii many otheis thut 1 cannot rehearioO at this Ume. 



NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 181 

r->ottie of ihem he put inward and some in court, and 
eorne he took pledges for good rule in time coming. So 
he brought the isles both north and south, in pood rule 
and i)eaGe ; wherefore he had great profit, service, and 
obedience of people along time hereafter, and as Ion* as 
he had the heads of the country in subjection, they lived 
ill great pe;ice and rest, and there was great ri ;he3 aad 
policy by tlie king's justice."— PiMiXottie, p. 152. 

Note XVI. 

Rest safe till viorning — vity Hicerp. 

Such cheek should feel ike midnight air, St xxxv.. 
line 7. 

Hardiiiood was in every respect so essential to the 
characf ir of a highlander, that the reproach of effemi- 
nacy war, ilie most bitter which could be thrown upon 
him. Yet it was sometimes hazarded on wii;it we 
might presume to think slight grounds. It is reported 
of old sir Ewen (;ameron oi Lochiel, when upwards of 
seventy, that he was surprise.! by niuht on a hunting •)r 
military exiiedition. He wrapped him in his plaid, and 
lay contentedly down upon the snow, with which the 
ground happened to be covered. Among his attendants, 
who weie (ireparinsr to take their rest in the same man- 
ner, he observed that one of his grandsons, for his better 
accommodation, had rolled a large snow-ball, and placed 
it below his head. The wrath of the ancient chief was 
awakened by a symptom of what he conceived to be de- 
generate luxury. " Out upon Ihee," said he, kicking 
the frozen bolster from the head which it supported, 
*' art thou so effeminate as to need a pillow?" The 
cfncer of engineers, whose curious letters from the high- 
lands have been more than once quoted, tells a similar 
Btory of Mardonald of Keppoch, and subjoins the fol- 
owing remarks : 

" This and mnny other stories are romantic"; but there 
is one thing, that at first thought inisht seem very ro- 
mantic, of which I have been credibly assured, thpt 
when the highlanders are constrained to lie among the 
hills, in cold dry and windy weather, they sometimes 
soak the plaid in some river or burne, i. e. brook ; and 
then holding up a corner of it a little above th -ir heads, 
they turn themselves round and round, till they are en- 
veloped by the whole mantle. They lay themselves 
down on the heath, upon the leeward side of some hill, 
Avhere the wet and the warmth of rtieir bodies m;ike a 
steam, like that of a boiling kettle. The wet they say, 
keeps them warm by thickening the slutf, and keepii-g 
the wind from ptjnetrBting. 

15 



182 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 

" I must confess I should have been apt to question 
this fact, had I not frequently seen them wet from morn- 
ing to night; and even at tlie lieLMnning of the rain, not 
so much as stir a few yards to shelter, but continue in 
it, without necessity, till Ihey were, as we say, wet 
through and ihrougli. And that is soon effected by tJie 
looseness and spunginess of the plaidinq ; but the bon- 
net is frequently taken off, and wrung hke a dishclout, 
and then put on again. 

" They have been accustomed from their infancy to 
be often wet, and to take the water like spaniels, and 
this is become a second nature, and can scarcely be cal- 
led a hardship to them, insomuch that I used to say, 
they seemed to be of the duck-kind, and to love water 
as well. Though 1 never saw this preparation for sleep 
in windy weailier, yet setting out early in a morning 
from one of the huts, I have seen the marks of their 
lodging, where the ground has been free from rime or 
snow, which remained all round the spot where they 
had lain.''— ietfers from Scotland. Lond. 1754. 8vcs, 
11. p. 108. 

Note XVII. 

His henchman cavie. Stanza xxxv. line 15. 

" This officer is a sort of Secretary, and is to be ready 
upon all occasions, to venture his life in defence of his 
master; and at drinking-bouts he stands behind his 
seat, at his haunch, from whence his title is derived, 
and watches tlie conversation, to see if any one offends 
his patron. 

" An English officer being in company with a certain 
chieftain, and several other highland gentlemen, near 
Killichumen, had an argument with the great man ; and 
both being well warmed with usky, at last the dispute 
grew very hot. 

" A youth who was henchman, not understanding one 
word of English, imagined his chief was insulted, and 
thereupon drew his pistol from his side, and snapped it 
at the oflicer's head •, but the pistol missed fire, other- 
wise it is more than probable he mi^ht have suffered 
death from the hand of that little vermin. 

" But it is very disagreeable to an Englishman over a 
bottle, with the Jiiglilanders, to see every one of thetn 
have his gilly, that is, hi^^ servant, standing behind him, 
all the while, let what will be the subject of convex- 
sat ion."— /i'frf. 11. 159. 



NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 



Note I. 

And while the Fiery Cruas glanced like a meteor round. 
Slaiiz;i i. line lb. 

When a cliieftuin designed lo summon his clan, upnii 
any tuddeii ur impoiUuit emergency, he slew a gtiat, 
and making a cross olany Ughl wood, seared lis extiemi- 
lies in the lire, and exlinguitlied Ihem in the bloud of 
the animal. This was called \h& fiery Cross, also Crean 
I'arigk, or llie Crttss of Shame, because disobedience 
to what ihe symbol implied, inferred infuniy. it was 
deliveied lo a swift and trusty messenger, who ran lull 
speed with it to the next liamlei, where he presented it 
to the principal person, with a single word, implying 
the place of rendezvous. He who received the symbol 
was bound to send it forwards with equal despatch to 
the next village •, and thus, it passed with incredible 
celerity through all the district which owed allegiance 
to the chief, and also ain'mg his allies and neighbours, 
if the danger was common to them. At sight of the 
Fieiy Cross, every man, from sixteen years old to sixty, 
capable of bearing arms, was obliged instantly to repair, 
in his best arms and accoutiements, to the place of ren- 
dezvous. He who failed to appear, suffered the ex 
tiemilies of fire and sword, which were emblematically 
denounced to the disobedient by the bloody and burned 
marks upon this warlike signal. During liie civil war 
of 17 15-G, the Fiery Cross often made its circuit ; and 
upon one occasion it passed through the whole district 
of Breadalbane, a tract of thirty-two miles, in three 
houi-s. The late Alexander Sluart, esq. of Invernahyle, 
described to me his having sent round the Fiery Cross! 
through the district of Appine, during the same commo- 
tion. The coast was threatened by a descent from two 
English frigates, and the flovt'er of the young men were 
with the army of Prince Charles Edward, then in Eng- 
land, yet the summons was so effectual, that even old 
age and childhood obeyed it, and a force was collected 
in a few hours, so numerous and so enthusiastic, tliat 
allaitempt at the intended diversion upon the coHntry 
of the absent waririors was in prudence abandoned, as 
desperate. 

This practice, like some otliera, is common to the 
liighlandere with the ancient Scandinavians, as will 
a^ipear by the following extract from Olaus Magnus. 



394 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 

•' When the enemy is upon the sea coast, or within 
il>e limits o1 noithern kingdoms, then presently, by the 
command of the provincial governors, with the counsel 
and consent of the old soldiers, who are notably skilled 
in such like business, a staff of three Ijands length, in 
the common sight of them all, is carried by the s^peedy 
tunning of some active young man, unto that village 
or city, with this command,— that on the 3. '1. or 8. day, 
one, two, or three, or else every man in parUculnr, from 
J5 years old, shall come with his arms and expenses for 
ten or twenty days, upon pain that his or their houses 
shall be burnt, (which is estimated by the burning of 
the staff) or else the master to be hanged, (which is 
signified by tlie cord tied to it) to appear speedily on 
such a bank, or field, or valley, to hear the cause he is 
called, and to receive orders from the said provincial 
governours what he should do. Wheiefore that mes- 
^jenger, swifter than any post or waggon, having done 
his commission, comes slowly back again, bringing a 
token with him that he hath done all legally ; and every 
moment one or other runs to every village, and tellg 

those places what they must do." " The messengers, 

therefore, of the footman, that are to give warning to 
the people to meet for the battail, run fiercely and 
swiftly ; for no snow, nor rain, nor heat, can stop them, 
nor night hold them •, but they will soon run the race 
they undertake. 1 he first messenger tells it to the i;ext 
village 5 and so the hubbub runs all over, till they all know 
it in that stift or territory, where, when, and wherefore 
they must meet." — Oluus Magnus's Ilistoni of the 
Got/is,ET\gl\shtd by J. ts. Lond.l(J58. bock iv. chnp. 3,4. 

Note II. 
That Monk of savage form and face. Stanza, iv. line II* 

The st^iteiif religion in the middle pges afforded con- 
siderable facilities for those wh( se mode of life ex( luded 
them from legular worship, to secure, ne vertlieless, the 
ghostly assistance of oonfessois ;..erfectly willing to 
adapt the nature of their doctiine to the necessities and 
peculiar circumstance? of their flock. Kobin Hood, it 
33 well known, had his celebrated domestic chaplain 
Friar Tuck. And that same curlal friar was probably 
matched in manner and appearance by the ghostly 
fathers of theTynedale robbers, who are thus described 
ill an excommunication fulminated against their patronsi 
by Richard Fox, bishop of Durham, tempore Henrici 
VUIvi. "We have further understood, that there ar« 
many chaplains in the said territories of Tynedale and 
bedesdale, who are public and open niaintainers of con- 



NOTKS i!J t.\:\TO nilRD. 186 

cuWnaee, irregular, siv^pended, excoininunicxlcd, and 
intetdicted persons, and tviilial so utterly ignorant of 
letltefs, lliat it lias beoii found by those wlio objected 
tills to them, that there were some wlio having cele- 
brated mass fur ten yeai;^, were still unable lo read the 
sacramental service. Wo have also uialerstcod there 
are persons among them, who, althou!,'h not ordained 
do take upon them the offices of priesthood ; and, in 
contempt of God, celebrate divine and sacred rites, and 
admhiister the sacraments, not only in sacred and dedi- 
cated i)!ace3, but in tluii^e which are propiirne and in- 
' terdicted, and most wretchedly ruiiuas ; they them- 
selves, altogether unfit to be used in divine or even in 
temporal otftces. The which said cliaplaitrs do admin- 
ister sacraments and sacramental rites to the aforesaid 
manifest and infamous thieves, robbers, depredators, 
receivers of stolen goods, and plunderers, and that 
without restitution, or inlenlion to restore, as is evinced 
by the fact; aial do also openly admit tliem to the rites 
of ecclesiastical sepulture, without exacting seciu'ity for 
restitution, although they are prohibited from doing so 
by the sacred canons, as well as by Ihe institutes of the 
saints and fathers, AU which infers the heavy peril of 
their own souls, and is a pernicious example to tii e 
otlier believers in Christ, as well as no slight, but an 
aggravated injury to the members despoiled and plun- 
dered of their goods, gear, herds, and cattle."* 

To this lively and picturesque description of the con- 
fessors and churchmen of [tre.tatory tribes, there maybe 
added some curious particulars respecting the priests 
att iched to the several septs of native Irish, during the 
reign of queen Elizabeth. These friars liad indeed to 
plead, that the incursions, which they not only pardon 
ed, but even encouraged, were made upon those liostile 
to them, as well in religion, as from national antii)athy. 
But by protestant writers they are uniformly alleged to 
be the chief instruments of Irish insurrection, the very 
well-spring o f all rebellion towards the English govern- 
ment. Lithgow, the Scottish travelIer,^S declares the 
Irish woodkerne, or predatory tribes, to be but the 
hounds of their hunting priests, who directed tJieir in- 
cursions by tlieir pleasure, partly for sustenance, partly 

* The Monition against the Robbers of Tynedalo and 
Redesdale, with which I was favoured by my friend Mr. 
Hurtees, of Mainstbrth, may be found in tlie original 
Latin, in the Appendix to the Introduction to the Bor- 
tler Minstrelsy, No. VII. fourth edition. 
^Lithgows Travels, first edit. p. 131. 

** 15*^ 



185 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 

to gratify animosity, partly to foment ge»ei al division, 
and always for the better security and easier domi- 
nation of the fiiare.' Derrick, tlie liveliness and 
minuteness of whose descriptions may frequently 
apologize for his doggerel verses, after describing an 
Irish feast, and the encouragement given, by the songs 
of the bards, to its termination in an incursion upon the 
parts of the country, more immediately under tlie do- 
minion of the English, records the no less powerful ar- 
guments used by the friar to excite tlieir animosity : 

And more t' augment the fiame, 

and rancour of their harte, 
The frier, of his counsells vile, 

to rebelles doth imparte. 
Affirming that it is 

an almost deede to God, 
To make the English subjects tasta 

tile Irishe rebells' rodde. 
Tospoile, to kill, toburne, 

this friar's counsell is ; 
And for tlie doing of the same 

he warrants heavenlie blisse. 
fie tells a hoi ie tale ; 

the white he tournes to blacke ; 
And though the pardnp's in his male, 

he woikes a knavis-he knacke. 

The wreckful invasion of a part of the English pale 
is then described with some spirit; the burning of 
bouses, driving of entile, and all peitaining to such 
predatory inroads, is illustrated by a rude cut. Tlie deJ 
feat of the Iii^h, by a party of English soidieis fiom the 
next garrison, id then conimemon.teri, and in like man- 
ner adorned with an en^fraving, in which the fiiar is 
exhibi ed mourning over the slain chiettain ; or as the 
rubric expresses it. 

The friar, then, that treacherous knave, with ough 

ough hone lament. 
To see his cousin Devih's son to have so foul event. 

The matter is handled at great length in (he text, of 
which the following verses are more than sufficient 
sample. 

The friar reeing thig, 

laments that lucklesse parte, 
And cur«eth to the pitteof hell 
|j]« d«ath man's sinrdi* harte: 



NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 1S7 

Yet for toquight them with 

the friar taketh paine, 
For all the synnes that ere he did 

remission to obtaine. 
And therefore serves his hooke, 

the candell and the bell ; 
But thiiike you tliatsuche apishetoiss 

brin<; dinmed souls from heil? 
It longs not to my parte 

infei nail things to knovve j^ 
But I believe till later daie, 

tliei rise not from belowe. 
Yet hope that friers give 

to IhJ!^ rebellious ruut, 
If that their souls should chaunce in hell, 

to bring them qnicklieout, 
Doeth make them lead suche lives, 

As neither God nor man, 
Without revenge for their desartea, 

permitie orsutTercMn. 
Thus friars are the cause, 

the fountain and the spring. 
Of hurleburles in this lande, 

ofeche unhappie thing. 
Thei cause them to rebell 

against their soveraigne quene : 
And through rebellion often tymes, 

their lives to vanishe clene. 
So as by friers meanes, 

in whom all follie swimme. 
The 1 rish knme do often lose 

the life, with ledde and limme.* 

As the Irish tribes, and those of the Scottish high- 
lands, are much more intimately allied, by language, 
manners, dress, and customs, than the antiquaries of 
either country have been wiling to admit, I flatter 
myself I have here produced a strong warrant for the 
character sketched in the text. The following picture, 
though of a different kind, serves to establish the exist- 
ence of ascetic religionists, to a comparatively late 
period, in the highlands and western isles. There is a 
great deal of simplicity in the description, for which 
as for much similar information, I am obliged to Dr 

* This curious Picture of Ireland vas inserter^, ny the 
author in the republication of Somer's Tracts, vol. I. in 
which the plates have been also inserted, from the only 
iirpres'song known to exist, belonging to the copy in the 
Advocates' Library. See Somer's Tracts, vol. i . p. 594, 



188 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 

John Martin, wlio visifert tl)e Ilebiidoa at the faiiigcf? 
lion of Sir Robert Sil)balcl, a .Scottish antiquary of emi- 
nence, and early in the eighteentli century pubhshed a 
description of them, which procused him admission into 
tlie Royal Society. Ue died in Loudon about J7]9. Ilia 
work is a strans^e iiiixtuie of learning, obiervatioii, and 
gross credulity. 

«' I remember," says this author, " I have seen an 
old laj-capuchin here (in the island of Benbecula) 
called in their language Brahirboctit, that is, Pour 
Brother; which is Ulerally true; for he answers tiiis 
character, having nothing but what is given him : he 
holds himself fully satisfied with food and rayment, and 
lives in as great simplicity as any of his order ; his diet 
is very mean, and he drinks only faire water : his habit 
is no less mortifying than iliat of his brethren elsewhere ; 
lie w ears a short coat, which comes no larther than his 
middle, which reiiches to his knee ; the plaid is fat^tened 
on his breast with a wooden pin, his neck bare, and his 
feet often so too; he wears a hat for ornament, and the 
string about it is a bit of a fisher's line, made of horse- 
hair. This plaid he wears instead of a gown worn by 
those of liis order in other countries : I told him lie 
wanted the flaxen girdle that men of his order usually 
wear: he answered me, that he wore a leather one, 
wiiich was the same thing. U[)on the matter, if he is 
spoke to when at meat, he answers again ; which is 
contrary to the custom of his order. The pcx)r man fre- 
quently diverts himself with angling of trouts: he lies 
upon straw, and has no bell (as others have) to call him 
to his devotion, but only his conscience, as lie told me.' 
—Martin's Description of the Western Islands^ p. 8-2. 

Note III, J 

Of Brian^s birth strangetales were told. St. v. 1. 1. ™ 

The legend which follows is not of the author's inven- 
tion, it IS possible he may dilfer from modern critics, in 
supposing that the records of human suiierstition, il" 
peculiar to, and characteristic of, Jhe country in whicli 
the same is laid, are a legitimate suTijcct of poetry, lie 
gives, however, a ready assent, to the narrower propo- 
sition, whicli condemns all attsmjts of an irregular and 
disordered fancy, to excite terror, by accumulating a 
train of fantastic and incoherent horrors, whetiier bor- 
rowed from all countries, afid patched upon a narrative 
belonging to one whicli knew them not, or deiived from 
tlie author's own imagination. 



JiOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 189 

In the present case, therefore, I appeal to the record 
which 1 have transcribed, with the variation of a very 
few words, from the geographical collection made by 
the laird of Macfarlane. 1 know not whetlier it be ne- 
cessary to remark, tl)at the jniscellaiieous concourse of 
youiJis and maidens on tlie nij.'ht, and on tlie spot where 
tlie niiracie is said to have taken place, rniglit, in an un- 
cieduluus age, have s;ouievvhnt diminislicd tlie wonder 
which accompanied the conception of Gjlli-JJoir-Magh- 
revollich. 

" The>e is bot two myles from Inverloghie, the cliurch 
of Kihnaiee, in Loghyeld. In ancient iimes tlieie was 
ane church buildtd upon ane hill, which was aLove ihis 
church, which doth now stand in this tonne j and an- 
cient men doeth say, that there was a battle lougbten on 
ane hili not the tenth part ota myle from this church, be 
cerlaine men wliich they did not know what liiey were. 
And long tyme ihereaiter, cerlaine herds of that touiie, 
and of the next toune, called Unnatt, both were wenches 
and youihes, did on a time cjuveen with others on that 
hill ; and the day being somewhat coid, did gather the 
bones of the dead men that were slayne long tyme be- 
fore in that place, and did make a hie to warta ihem. 
At last they did all remove from the lire, except one 
maid or wench which was verie cold, and she did re- 
maine there for a t^pace. Hhe being quyeilie her alone, 
wiiiiout anie other conipanie, took up ihe cloihs above 
her knees, or thereby, to warm her; a wii.d did cc.me, 
and casie the afhes upon her, and she was conceived of 
ane man-child, beverall tymes theiealter she was varie 
sick, aud at last she wasknowne to be with chyld. And 
then her parents did ask her the matter beirofr, which 
the wench CLUid not well answer which way to saii^fie 
Ihem. At last she resdved them with ane answer. As 
fortune fell upon iier C(>ncerning this marvelldus nnracle, 
the thilu being txirne, his name was called OUi-doir- 
Magkrevollick, that is to say, Black Child, Sun to the 
hones. So called, his grandfather sent him to.=^ch(oll, 
a::d so he was a good schollar, and godlie. He diu build 
this church which doetn n( w stand in Lochye.d, called 
Kiliaalie.^'— Macfarlane, ut supra, 11. ItiS. 
Note IV. 

Yet ne''er again to braid her kair, 

The virgin snood did Alice wear. St. V. line C5. 

The snood, or riband, with which a Scottish lass 

braided her hair, had an emblematic Pitinification, and 

applied to her maiden character. It was exchanged for 

the curch, toy, or coif, when ehe passed, by mariiage , 



190 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 

into the matron state. But if the damsel was 3o unfor^ 
tunate as to lose pretensions to the name of maiden , 
without gaining a right to that of matron, she was neither 
permitted to use the suood, nor advance to the graver 
dignity of the curch. In old Scottish songs there occur 
many sly alluBiuDs to such misfortune, as in the old 
words to tho jiopulur taiio of '^Uwcrihe nutir uman;; 
the he at lie r." 

Down amaujij the broom, the broom, 

Down aniang the broom, my dearie, 
The lassie lost lier silken snood, 
Tiiat garb her greet till she was wearie. 
Note V. 

The deserts gave him visions wild. 

Such as mikt suit the spectre^s child. St. vii. 1. 1. 

In adopting the legend concerning the birth of the 
Founder of the Church of Kilmalie, the author has en- 
deavoured to trace ihe ellect whiclr such a belief wad 
liRely to produce, in a barbarous age, on the persons to 
whom it related. It seems likely that he must have 
become a fanatic or an imposter, or that mixture of botir 
which forms a more frequent character tlran either of 
them, as existing separately. In truth, mad persons 
are irrore frequently anxious to impress upon others a 
faith in their visions, than tliey are themselves con- 
firmed in their reality ; as, on the other hand, it is dif- 
ficult for the most cool-headed imposter long to personate 
an enthusiastic, without in some degree believing what 
he is so eager to have believed. It was a natural at- 
tribute of such a character as the supposed hermit, that 
he should credit the numerous superstitions with which 
the minds of ordinal y highlanders are almost always 
imbued. A few ot these are slightingly alluded to m 
this stanza. The River Uffimon, or River-horse, for it 
is that form which he commonly assumes, is the Kelpy 
of the lowlands, an evil and malicious spirit, delighting 
to forebode and to witness calamity. He frequents 
most highland lakes and rivers ; and one of his most 
memorable exploits was performed upon tire banks of 
Loch Vennachar, in the very district which forms the 
scene of our action : it consisted in the destructioir ot a 
funeral procession with all its attendants. The " noon- 
tide hag," called in Gffilic, Olas-lich, a tall, emaciated 
gigantic female figure, is supposed in particular to haunt 
the district of iinoidait. A goblm dressed in antique 
armour, and having one hand covered with blood, called, 
from that circumst.ance, Lham. dcar<r, or-Ued hand, is 
a tenant of tlie forests vif Oleumore and Rolhemurcu. 



NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 191 

Other spirits of the desert, all frichtful in shnpe, and 
mallirnanl in disposition, are bt^ieved to frequent dif- 
ferent moinitains and glens of the highlands, where any 
unusual appearnnce, produced by mists, or the slrange 
lights that are sometimes thrown upon particular ob- 
jects, never fails to present an ajjparition to the imagina- 
tion of the solitary and melancholy mountaineer 

Note VI. 
The fatal Ben-Shie's boding scream. St. vii. line 20. 
Most great families in the highlands were supposed to 
have a tutelar, or rather a domestic spirit, attached to 
them, who took an interest in their prosperity, and inti- 
mated , by its waijings, any approaching disaster. That 
of Grant of Grant was called Mnj Moullack, and ap- 
peared in the form of a rrirl, who had her arm covered 
with hair. Grant of Kothemurcus had an attendant 
called Bodachandun, or the Ghost of the H ill ; and many 
other examples might be mentioned. The T3en-Shie, or 
Ben-Schichiaii, implies the head, or chief of the Fairies, 
whose lamentations were often supposed to precede the 
death of a chieftain of particular families. When she is 
visible, it is in the form of an old woman with a blue 
mantle, and streaming hair. A superstition of the same 
kind is, I believe, universally received by the inferior 
ranks of tlie native Irish. 

Note VIII. 
Sounds, too, had come in midnight blast, 
Of charffing steeds, careering fast 
Along Benharrow^s shingly side. 
Where mortal horsemen ne'er wight ride. St. vii. 1.21. 
A presage of the kind alluded to in the text, is still be- 
lieved to announce death to the ancient highland family 
of M'Lean of Lnrhbuy. The spirit of an ancestor slain 
in battle, is heard to gallop along a stony bank, and then 
to ride thrice round the family residence, ringing his 
fairy bridle, aiid thus intimating the approaching cala- 
mity. How easily the eye as well as the ear rnay be 
deceived upon such occasions, is evident from stories of 
armies in the air, and other spectral phenomena with 
which history abounds. Such an apparition is said to 
have been witnessed upon the side of Southerfell moun- 
tain, between Penrith and Keswick, upon the 22d June, 
1744, by two p( rsons, William Lancaster of Blakehills, 
and Daniel ^Irickit, ids servant, whose attestation to 
!he fact, with a full account of the apparition, dated 
the 21st July, 1765, is printed in < larke's Purvey of the 



192 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 

Lakes. The apparition consisted of several troops of 
horse moving in regular order, with a steady rapid mo- 
tion, making a curved sweep around the tell, and seem- 
ing to the spectators to dis:ippear over the ridge of the 
mountain. Many persons witnessed the phenomenon, 
and observed the last, or last but one, of the supposed 
troop, occasionally leave his rank, and pass at a gallop 
to the front, when he resumed the same steady pace. 
This curious appearance, making the necessary allow- 
ance for imagination, may be perhaps p'jiliclently ac- 
counted for by oplical deception- Surveij of the Lakes, 
p. :35. 

Supeinatinal intimations of approaching fate are not, 
I believe, confined to iiighland families. Howe! nien- 
tions having seen at a lapidary-s in 1G32, a monumental 
sioiie, prepaied lor four persons of the name of Oxen- 
ham, before the death of e;ich of whom, the inscription 
stated a white bird to have apieaied and fluttered around 
the lied, while the patient was in the last agony. Fa- 
miliar Letters, ed:t. 1720, p. 247. Glanvil.'e mentions 
one family, the members of which received this solemn 
Bijn by music, the sound of wliich floated from the 
family residence, and seemed to die in a neighbouring 
wood ; another, that of Captain Wood of Bampton, to 
whom the signal was given by knocking. But the most 
remarkable instance of the kind, occurs in the 1\JS. Me- 
moirs of Lady Panshaw, so exemplary for her conjugal 
affection. Her husband, Sir Richard, and she, chanced, 
during their abode in Ireland, to visit a friend, the head 
of a .sept, who resided in his ancient baronial castle, sur- 
rounded with a moat. At midnight, she was awakened 
by a ghastly and supernatural scream, and looking out 
of bed, btheld, by the moonlight, a female face and part 
of the form, hovering at the window. The distance 
from the ground, as well as the circumstance of the 
moat, excluded the possibility that what she beheld was 
of this world. Tlie face was that of a young and rather 
handsome woman, but pale, and the hair, which was 
reddi.sh, loose and dishevelled. Tiie dress, which Lady 
Fanshaw's terror did not prevent her remarking accu- 
rately, was that of the ancient Irish. Tiiis apparition 
continued to exhibit itself Co- some time, and then va- 
nished with two shrieks similar to that which had al first 
excited Lady Fanshaw-s attention. In the morning, 
with infinite terror, she communicated to her liost what 
she had witnessed, and found him prepared not only to 
credit but to account for the apparition. "A near re- 
lation of my family," said he, " expired last night in this 
castle. We dieguised our certain expectatktn of tUa 



NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. iSl? 

(vent from you, lest it sliould throw a cloud over the 
cheerful reception which was your due. Now, before 
such an event happens in this family and castle, tht, 
female spectre whom you have seen, is always visible. 
She is believed to he the spirit of a woman of inferior 
rank, whom one of niv ancestors degraded himself by 
HiarryiiiK, and whom afterwards, to expiate the dishonor 
done to liis faiiiily, he caused to be drowned in the castle 
moat." 

Note VHP, 

Whose parenta in Inch- Cailliach ■wa.vc. 

Their nhadow'd o'er Clan-Alpine''s grave. St. viii.l.I2". 

Inch- Cailliach, the Isle of Nuns, or of old Women, is 
h most beautiful island at the lower extremity of Loch- 
liomond. The church belonjiing to the former nunnery 
tvas long used as the place of worship for the parish of 
Buchannan, but scarce any vestiges of it now remain. 
The burial {.'round continues to Ue used, and contains 
the family places of sepulture of several neighbouring 
cUins. The monuments of the lairds of Macgiegor, and 
nf other families claiming a descent from the old Scottish 
kmg Alpine, are most remarkable. The highlandcrs are 
asjeaUiusof their rights of sepulture, as may be expected 
from a people,whose whole laws and government, if clan- 
ship can be called so, turned upon the single principle of 
family descent. "May his ashes be seatiered oh thf 
^ater," was one of the deepest and most solemn impre- 
cations which they used against an enemy. 

Note IX. 
The dun deer's hide 



On fleeter foot was nccer tied. St. xiii. line 1. 
The present brogue of the highlanders is made of 
half dried leather, with holes to admit and let out the; 
water ; for walking the inoors dry-shod, is a matter alto- 
gether out of question. The ancient uskin was still 
ruder, being made of the iin Iressed deer's hide, with the 
hairoutwaids, a circumstance Which procured the high- 
landers the well-known eiiilhet ol' Redshanks The 
process is very accurately described by one Eldar (him- 
self a highlander) in the project of ;i union between 
England and Scotland, addiessed to IJenry VIII. "We 
go a hunting, and after that we ' uf slaiw red-deer, we 
flay offthe skin by and by, and • • iiag of our bare-foo£ 
on the inside thereof, for want of cunning shoemakers, 
iiy your grace's pardon, we play the cobblers, compass- 
ing and measuring so much thereof, as shall reacli up 
luour anklesj pricking lUe upper purltlier^'of with holes 

16 



194 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 

that the water may repass where it enters, and stretclihig 
it up with a strong thong of the same above our ankles. 
So and please your noble grace, we make our shoes. 
Therefore, we usiu-; such manner of shoes, the rough 
hairy side outwards, in your grace's dominions of Eng- 
land, we be called Roughfooted Scots.''— Pinkerton^s 
History, vol. II. p. 397. 

Note X. 
The dismal Coronach. Stanza xv. line 92. 
The Coronach of the highlanders, like the Ululatuc 
of the Romans, and the Ulaloo of the Irish, was a wild 
expression of lamentation poured forth by the mourners 
over the body of a departed friend. When the words of 
it were articulate, they expressed the praises of the 
deceased, and the loss the clan would sustain by his 
death. The following is a lamentation of the kind, 
literally tianslated from the Gajlic, to some of the ideas 
of which the text stands indebted. The tune is so 
[)opular, that it has since become the war march, or 
Gathering of the Clan. 

Coronach on Sir Laiichlan, Chief of Mad eud. 
Which of all the Seanachies 
Can trace thy line from the root up to Paradise, 
But Macvurih the son of Fergus ? 
No sooner had thine ancient stately tree 
Taken firm root in Albin, 
Then one of thy forefathers fell at Harlaw. 
'Twas then we lost a chief of deathless name ! 
'Tis no bnse weed — no planted tree, 
Nor a seedUng of last autumn ; 
Nor a sapling planted at Beltain ;* 
Wide, wide aroimd, were spread its leafy branches 
But the topmost bough is lowly laid ! 
T'hon has forsaken us before Lawaine. t 
Thy dwelling is the winter house ; — 
Loud, sad and mighty is thy death song !— 
<Jh ! courteous champion of Montrose !— 
Oh ! stately warrior of the Celtic Isles ! 
Thou shalt buckle thy harness on no more ! 
The coronach has for some years past been suiterseded 
at funerals by the use of the bagpipe, and that also is, 
like many other highland peculiarities, falling into dis- 
uetude, unless in remote districts. 
NOTK XI. 
Bcnlcdi saio the Cross of Fire, 
It glanced like lightning up Strath-Irc. St. xix. 1. L. 

* Bel's fire, or Whitsunday. t Halloween. 



NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 195 

A glance atthe provincial mapof Pertlisliire, or at any 
large map of Scotland, will trace the progress of the 
signal through the small district of lakes and mountains, 
wiilcli, in exercise of my poetical privilejie, 1 have sub- 
jec(ed to the authority of my imaginary cliieltain ; and 
which at the period of my lomance, was really occupied 
by a clan wiio claimed a descent from Alpine, a clan 
the most unfortunate and most persecuted, but neither 
the least distinguished, least powerful, nor least brave of 
the tribes of the Gael. 

Slioch non rioghridh duchaisach 
Bha-shois an Uun Staiobhinish 
Aig an roubh crun na Halba oihua 
'Sag a chiel duchas fast ris. 

The first stage of the Fiery Cross is to Duncraggan, a 
place near ihe Brigg of Turk, where a short stream 
divides Loch-Achray from Loch-Venn achar. From 
thence, it passes towards Callender, and then, turning to 
the left up the pass of Lennie, is consigned to Norman 
at the chapel of Saint Bride, which stood on a small and 
romantic knoll in the middle of the valley, called Strath- 
Ire. '] ombea and Arnandrave, or Arraandave, are names 
of places in the vicinity. The alarm is then suppo.>^ed 
to pass along the lake of Lubnaig, and through the va- 
rious glens in the district of Balquidder, including the 
neighbouring tracts of Glenfinlas and Strathgartney. 

NOTB XII. 

J\rot faster o'er the heathery braes, 

Balquidder, speeds thy midnight blaze, St. xxiv. 1.1 . 

It may be necessary to inform the southern reader, 
that the heath on the Scottish moorlands is often set fire 
lo, that the sheep may have the advantage of the young 
herbage produced m room of the tou<.'h old heather plants. 
This custom (execrated by sportsmen.) produces occa 
sionally the most beautiful nocturnal appearances, simi 
lar almost to the discharge of a volcano. The s)mile is 
not new to poetry. The diarge of a warrior, m the fine 
ballad of Haidykanute, is said to be " like a fire lo 
heather set." 



mfriE^ TO CANTO FOURTIJU 

Note I, 

The Taghairm called, bij icMch,afar, 

A)ur sires foresaw the events of war. s?t. iv. line 9. 

The highlanders, like all rude people, had various 
siiperstilious modes of enquirinj? into (ulurily. One of 
•the most noted was the Taghairm, mentioned in the 
'i«xt. A person was wrapped np ni the skin ot a newly 
slain buliock, and deposited beside a water-fall, or at 
the bottom of a precipice, or in some other stranjie, wild, 
and nniisual situation, wheie the scenery around him 
suggested nothing but objects of horror, in this situa- 
tion, he revolved in his mmd the question proposed, ynd 
whatever was impressed ujion hnn by his-exalied jnia- 
i^inaticn, passed for the inspiration of the disembodied 
t^pirits, who haunt these desolate recesses. Jn some of 
the Hebrides, they attributed tlie same oracular power 
to a large black stone by the sea-shore, which they np^ 
proached with certain solemnities, and consideiert the 
hist fancy wiiich came into their own minds, alter they 
iid so, to be tire undoubted dictate of the tutelar deity 
•of the stone, and as such, to be, if possible, punctually 
complied with. Maitin has recorded the Ibllowing 
curious modes of highland augury, m which the Ta- 
ghairm, and its effects upon the person wlio was sub- 
feet to it, may serve to illustrate the text : 

" It was an ordinary thing among the ov«r carious to 
consult an invisible oracle, concerning the late of fami- 
lies and baUles, &c. Ihis was performed three di lifer- 
ent ways : the first was by a company of men, one of 
whom being detached by lot, was, afterwards carried to 
a river, which was the boundary between two villages ^ 
four of the company laid hold on him, and having .'^hut 
liis eyes, they took him by the legs and arms, and then 
tossing him to and auain, struck his hips with force 
against the bank. One of them cried out. What is it 
you got here.' another answers, A big of birch wood. 
The other cries again, Let his invincible friends appear 
from all quarters, and let ibem relieve him by giving an 
answer to our present demands ; and in a lew minutes 
after a number of little creatures came from the sea, 
who answered the question, and disappeared suddenly 
The man was then at liberty, and they all returned home., 
■to take their measures according to the prediction of their 
#ahe prophets^ but the poor deluded fools were ab^ised. 



NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 197 

ft)r the answer was still ambifruous. This was always 
practised in tlie night, and may literally be called Uie 
works of darkness. 

"• I had an account fioni the most intelligent and ju- 
dicious men ni the Isle of Skie, that, about sixiy-iwo 
years ago, the oracle was thus consulted only once, and 
that was in the parish of Kihnartin, on the east side, 
by a wicked and mischievous race of people, who are 
extinguished, both root and branch . 

" The second way of consulting the oracle was by a 
party of men. who first retired to solitary places, i emote 
from any house, and there they singled out one of their 
number, and wrapt him in a big cow's hide, which they 
folded about him; his whole body was covered with it 
except his head, and so left in this posture all night, 
until his invisible friends relieved him, by giving a 
jiroper answer to the question in hand ; which he re- 
ceived, as lie fancied, from several persons that he 
found about him all that time. His consorts returned 
to him at the break of day, and then he communicated his 
news to them ; which often proved fatal to those con- 
cerned in such unwarrantable inquiries. 

" There was a third way of consulting, which was a 
confirmation of the second above mentioned. The 
same company who put the man into the hide, took a 
live Cdt and put him on a spit ; one of the number was 
employed to turn the spit, and one of the consorts in- 
quired of him. What are you doing? he answered, I 
roast this cat, until his friends answer the question ; 
which must be the same that was proposed by the rtian 
shut up in the hide. And afterwards a very big cut* 
comes, attended by a number of lesser cats, desiring to 
relieve the cat turned upon the spit, and then answers 
the question. If this answer proved the same that was 
given to the man in the hide, then it was taken as a con- 
firmation of the other, which in this case was believed 
infallible. 

" Mr. Alexander Cooper, present minister of North 
Vist, told me that one John Erach, in the Isle of Lewis, 
assured him, it was his fate to have been led by his 
curiosity with some who consulted this oracle, and that 
Jie was a night within the hide, as above mentioned ; 
during which time he felt and heard such terrible things, 
that he could not express them ; the impression it made 
on him was such as could never go off, and he said for 

* The reader may have met wlijh the story of " King 
of the Cats," in Lord Lyttleton's Letters. It is well 
known in the highlands as a nursery tale. 

16* 



198 N0TK3 TO CANTO FOURTH. 

a thousand worlds, he would never again be concerned 
m the like perfoimance, for this had disordered him to 
a high degree. He confessed it ingenuously, and with 
an air of great remorse, and seemed to be very penitent 
under a ju&t sense of so great a crime ; he declared this 
about five years since, and is still living in the Lewis 
for any thing 1 know.'' Description of the Western 
Isles, p. llu. See also Pennant's Scoitisk Tour^ vol. 
II. p.3tJl. 

Note II. 

The choicest of the prey we had, 
Wkenswept uur merry men Gallangad. St. iv. line. 3 
I know not if it be worth observing that this passage is 
taken alnmst litt-rally from the nioulh of an old highland 
Kerne, or Kelleran, as they were called. He used to 
narrate the merry doings of the good old time when he 
was follower of Ohiune Dhu, or Black-knee, a relation 
of Rob Roy Macgregor, and liardly his interior in lame. 
This leader, on one occasion, thought pioper to make a 
descent upun the lower part of the Loch Lomond dis- 
irict, and summoned all the heritors and farmers to 
meet at the kirk of Urymen, to pay him black mail, i. e. 
Irihute lor furbejuance and protection. As tliis invita- 
tion was supported by a band of ihiity or forty stnut fel- 
lows, oidy one gentleman, an ascestor, if I mistake not, 
one of thepreseiil Mr. Grahame. of Garlmore, ventured 
to declme compliance, Ghiune Dhu instantly swept 
his land of all he could drive away, and among the 
spoil was a bull of the old Scottish wild breed whose 
ferocity occasioned gieal plague to the Kettt-i ans. " But 
ere we had reached ihe Row of Hennans," said the old 
mm, "a child might have sciatched his ears." The 
circumstance is a minute one, but it paints the times 
when the poor Levve was compelled 

To hoof it o'er as many weary miles, 
With goading pikemen hulloing at his heels, 
As e'er the bravest antler of the woods. 

Ethwald. 
Note IIL 

That huge cliff, whose ample verge 

Tradition calls the Hero's targe. Stanza v. line 5. 
There is a rock so named in the forest of Glenfinlas, 
by which a tumultuary cataract takes its course, Thw 
wild place is said in former times to have afforded refuge 
to an outlaw, who was supplied with provisions by a 
woman, who lowered them down from the brink 



NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 199 

of Ihe precipice above. His water he procured for him- 
self, by letting down a flaggon tied to a string, into the 
black pool beneath the fall. 

Note IV. 
Or raven en the blasted oak, 
That watching while the deer is broke^ 
His morsel claims with sullen croak. Stanza v. line I'J . 
Eveiy thing belon^ina: to the chase was matter of 
BOlemnuy anumg our ancestors, but nothmg was more 
80 than the mode of cuttins up, or, as it was technically 
called, firea&mo- ihe slaugJiierstig. The iones-ter had 
his allotted portion ; the hounds had a certain allow- 
ance ; and, to ninke the division as general as possible, 
the very birds h:id their sh ire a'so. '• 'J'here is a little 
gristle," says Turberville, " which is upon the spoon of 
the brisket, which we call the ravens bone. And I 
have seen in some places a raven so wont and ac- 
cusionif d to it, thai she wuuld nt'ver lai to cioak and 
cry foi it, all thr time you were in I'reakinji up of the 
deer, and would not depart till she had it " In the very 
ancient metrical lonrmce of Sir 'Prisirem, that peerless 
knight, who is said to have been the very deviser of all 
rulesof chase, did not omit this ceremony. 
" The rnven he yaf his yiltea 
Sal on the fouiched tiee." 

Sir Tristrem, M edp. 34. 

Thenvenmight also challenge his rights by the book 

of Saint Albans ; for thus says D.mie Juliana Beruers :— 

Sliiteth anon 

The hely to the sid.^ from the corbyn bone 
That isccroine's fee, ai the deaih he will be. 
Johnson, in " The Sad Shepard," gives a more pee- 
lical account of the same ceremony : 
Marian— He thnt undoes him, 
Doth cleave liie brisket bone upon the spoon, 
Of which a little cristle gn vvs— you call it — 
Rvbin Hood — The raven's bone. 

Marian Now o'er he.id sat a a raven 

On a sere bough, a grown, great bird, apd hoarse; 
Who, a 1 the time the deer was breaking up, 
So croaked and cried for it, as all the huntsmen, 
Especially old Scathiocke, thought it ominous.'' 

Note V. 
Which spills the foremost foeman''8 life, 
That party conquers in the strife. St. vi.Une 25. 
Though this be in the text drgcribed as th« reponw •< 



SOO NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 

the 'J'aghraim, or Oracle of tlie Hide, it was of itself an 
augury frequently attended to. The fate of the battle 
was often aniicipaled in the imagination of the com- 
liataiits, by observing which party firs^t shed blood. It 
is said that the hiyhlaiideis, under Montrose, were so 
deeply imbued with this notion, that on the morning 
of the battle of Tippermoor, they rnurdered a defenceless 
herdsman, wliom they found in the fields, merely to 
secure an advantage of so much conseqtience to their 
party. 

Note VI. 

Alice Brand, Stanza xii. line 1. 
This little fairy tale is founded upon a very curious 
Danish ballad, which occurs in the Kiemiie Fiscr, a 
collection of heroic songs, first published in 1591, and 
reprinted in 1695, inscribed by Anders Sofrensen, the 
collector and editor, to Sophia Queen of Denmark. 1 
have been favoured with a literal translation of the 
original, by my learned friend, Mr. Robert Jamie:^on, 
•whose deep knowledge of Scandinavian antiquities 
will, I hope, one day be displayed in illustration of the 
history of Scottish Ballad and Song, for which no man 
possesses more ample materials. 'J'he story will remind 
the readers of tiie Border Minstrelsy of the tale of 
The Young Tamlane But this is only a solitary and 
not very marked instance of coincidence, whereas se- 
veral of the other ballads are the same collection, find 
exact counterparts in the Kiempe Viser. "Which may 
have been the originals, will be a question for future 
antiquarians. Mr. Jamieson, to secure the power of 
literal translation, has adopted the old Scottish idiom 
which approaches so near to that of tlie Danish, aj 
almost to give word for word, as well as line for line, 
and indeed in many verses the orthography alone is 
altered. As Wester Haf, mentioned in the first stanza 
of the ballad, means the West Sea, in opposition to the 
Baltic, or East Sea, Mr. Jamieson inclines to be of 
opinion, that the scene of the disenchantment is laid in 
one of the Orliuey, or Hebride Islands. To each verse 
in the original is added a burthen, having a kind of 
meaning of its own, but not applicable, at least not 
uniformly applicable, to the sense of the stanza to which 
itis subjoined : This is very common to both in Danish 
and Scottish song. 



NOTES TO CANTO FOUETH, 201 

THE ELFIN GRAY. 

Translated from the Danish Kforiipe Viser, p. y43 an4 
first publ itched J 59 1. 

Der Ligger en void i Tester Haf^ 

JJer ugtcr en bende at hygge .• 
Jiand forer did baade hog og Jivnd, 

Ug agter dar on vinteren at Hgge. 

( De vide Diiir og Diunie vdi Skofven.) 

1. 
Tjieie liggs a would in Wester Haf, 

f here a liu-^baiid means to bipir. 
And thillier lie carries b;i)lli and liawk and iioundj 
There meaning the wirier to ligg. 
( 7'lie mild deer and dues i'tk' ^ham out.) 



He takes wi" liim baith hound and cock, 

The lan?er he means trtf-tiiy, 
The wild deer in the sliaws Uiat are 

May sairly rue the day. 
(The wild deer,&:c.) 

3. 
H«'s hew'd the beech, and iie's fell"d the aik, 

Sae as lie tiie poplar jrray ; 
And grim in mood was tiie growsnine elf, 

That be sae bald he may. 

4. 
lie hew'd him kipples, he hew'd him bawka, 

VVi' micUle toil and haste; 
Syne speered the elt in the knock that bad^^ 

" Wha's hacking lieie sae fast i" 



Syne tip and ppak the w«iest elf. 

Clean 'd as an inmeit sma ; 
^« It's here is come a christian man; 

" I'll fleg him or he ga." 



It's up syne started the ferPtin elf, 
And glow'rd abont sae grim ; 

'• Its well ;i\va' to the hnslinnde's JiOAieO 
And hald a court on hint 



202 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 

7. 
"Here liaws he down both skugg and shaw, 

And works us skailh and scorn; 
His huswile he sail gie to me ; 

'J'hey's rue the day they were born 1" 
8. 
The elfin a' i' the knock that were 

Gaed dancing in a string ; 
They nighed near the husband's house \ — 

Sae lang their tails did him . 
9. 
The hound he yowls i' tlie yard ; 

The herd toots m his horn ; 
The earn scraichs, and the cock craws, 

As the husbande had gt'en him his corn, (a) 
10. 
The Elfin were five score and seven, 

Sae laidly and sae grim ; 
And they the husbande's guests maun be, 

To eat and drink wi' hmi. 
11. 
The husbande out o' Villenshaw 

At his winnock the Elves can see: 
" Help me now, Jesu Maria's Son ; 

Thir Elves they mint at me ! '' 
12. 
In every nook a cross he coost, 

In his chalmer maist ava, 
The Elfin a' were fley'd thereat, 

And flew to the wild- wood shaw, 

13. 
And some flew east, and some flew west, 

And some to the uorwart flew ; 
And some they flew to the deep pale down, 

There still they are I trow, (b) 

(a) This singular quatrain stands thus in the original. 

" Hunden hand gior i gaarden ; 

Hiorden tuer i sit horn ; 
.ffirden skriger, og lianen galer, 

Som bonden halde gifvet sit korn.'' 
(6) In the Danish .• 
" Somnie floye oster, og somine floye ve.ster, 

Nogle floye ner paa ; 
Nogle floye ned i dytiene dale. 
Jeg troei- de ere der endnu." 



NOTES TO CANTO B'OURTH. 203 

14. 
It was the weist Elf, 

In at the door braids he, 
Agast was the husbande, for that Elf 

For cross nor sign wad flee. 
15. 
The huswife she was a canny wife, 

Slie set the Elf at the board ; 
She set afore liiin baiih ale and meat, 

Wi' niony a well-waled word. 
16. 
" Hear thou, Gudemau o' Villenshaw, 

What now I say to thee ; 
Wlia bad you bi^g within our bounds 

Without the leave o' me ? 
17. 
*' But an thou in our bounds will bigg 

'' And bide, as well may be. 
Then thou thy dearest huswife maun 

To me for a lemman gie." 
18, 
Up spak the luckless husbande then, 

As God the grace him gae : 
*' Eline she is to me sae dear, 

Her thou may na-gate hae." 
19. 
Till the Elfe he answer'd as he couth ; 

" Let but my huswife be, 
And tak whate'er o' gude or gear 

Is mine, awa wi' thee." 
20. 
« Then I'll tliy Eline tak and thee 

Aneath my feet to tread ; 
And hide thy goud and white monie 

Aneath my dwelling stead." 
2J. 
The husbande and the household a' 

lu sary rede ihey join ; 
*' Far belter that she should be now forfairn, 

Nor that we a' should tyne." 
22. 
Up, will of rede, the husbande stood, 

Wi' heart fu' «id and sair ; 
Ak<1 lie has giiie his huswife Eline 

Wi' ilje young Elf to fare. 



S04 NOTES TO CANTO POURTI? 

23. 
Then blyth grew he, and sprang about j 

He took her in liid arm ; 
The rud it left her comely cheek ; 
Her heart was clem'd wi' harm. 
24. 
A waefii' womnij then she was ana, 

And the moody tears let la : 
" God rue on mee, unseely wife, 
How hard a wierd 1 la ! 
25. 
" My faith I plight to the fairest weighs 

That man in mold mat see ; 
Mann I now meli wi' a lai«lly El, 
His light leminan to be .'" 
26. 
He mir.ted ance, he minted twice, 
Wae wax'd his heart that syth : 
Syne the laidliest fiend he grew that e'r<f 
To mortal ee did kytli. 
27. 
When he the Ihirden lime can mint. 

To Mary's sorrshe pray'd, 
And (he laidly elf was clean awa, 
And a fair knight in his s;.ead. 
28. 
This fell under a linden green, 

That again his shape he found ; 
O' wae and care was the word nae mail', 
A' were sae glad that stound. 
29. 
" O dearest Eline, hear thou this, 

And thovv my wife s'all be, 
And a' the goud in merry England 
Sae freely I'll gie thee. 
30. 
" Whan f was but a little wee baern, 

My niither died me frae ; 
Mv stepmither sent me awae frae her ^ 
I turn'd till an Eljiu Gray. 

31. 
*' To thy husband I a sjift will gie, 

Wi' tnickle state and gear, 
A^ mends for Eline his huswife j 

Tli9u's be my hcaitisdear." 



NOTES T© CANTO FOURTH. 205 

32. 
*' Thou nobll knyght, we thank now God 

That has freed us frae skaith; 
Sae wed thu thee a maiden free, 

And joy attend ye baith ! 
33. 
•' Sin I to thee na maik can be, 

My dochter may be thine ; 
And thy gude will right to fulfil, 

Lat this be our propine."' 
34. 
" I thank thee, Eline, thou wise woman : 

My praise thy worth shall bae j 
And ihy love gin I fail to win, 

Thou here at hame shall stay." 
35. 
The husband biggit now on his oe, 

And nae ane wraught him wian^j 
His dochter wore crown in England, 

And happy liv'd and lang. 
36. 
Now Eline the husband's huswife has 

Cour'd a' her grief and harms j 
She's mother to a noble queen 

Thai sleeps in a king's arms. 



GLOSSARY. 
Stanza 1. Wold, a wood; a woody fastness. Hus- 
bande, from the Dan. hos, with, and bonde, a villain, 
or bondsm.an, who was a cultivator of the ground, and 
could not quit the estate to which he was attached, 
without the permission of his lord. This is the sense 
of the word in the old Scottish records. Bigg, build, 
Lig^, lie. Dues, does. 

2. Sha2c, wood. Sairly, sorely. 

3. Jiik,o{\k. Grousome, terrible- Bald,ho\d. 

4. Kipplcs, couples; beams joined at the top, for sup- 
porting a roof, in building. Bawks, balks; cross 
beams. J\[oil, laborious industry. Spcer'd., asked. 
Knock, hillock. 

5. Weiest, smaUeit. Crean'^Z, shrunk, diminished ; from 
the Gaelic, crian, very small. Jmmert, emmet ; ant- 
Cliristian, used in the Danish ballads, &c. in contra- 
distinction to demoniac, as it is in England, in contra, 
distj^ction to brute, in which sense, a person of the 
lower class, in England, would call a Jew or a Tark 
a Christian. Flev, frighten. 

17 



206 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH 

6. Olow''d, stated. Hald, ho]d. 

7. Skugg, shade. Skaitfii harm. 

8. J\righed, approached. 

9. Yowles, howls. Toots, in tlie Dan. tude, is applied 
boUi to the howling of a dog, and the sound of a horn. 
Scraichs, screams. 

10. Laidly, lo3ilh\y ; disgustingly, w^/y. Griffij fierce. 

11. ^mwocA:, window. Jl/i7it, aim at. 

12. Coo5«, cast. CAa/mer, chamber. Maist, most. Ava, 
ofall. 

13. JVorwart, nortliward. TVow, believe. 

14. Braids, strides quickly forward. Wad, would. 
1.5. Canny, adroit. Many, many. Well-waled, well 

chosen. 

17. ./3ra, if. Bide, abide. Lemman, mistress. 

18. JVagate, nowise. 

10. Couth, could; knew how to. Lat be, let alone. 
Oude, goods ; property. 

20. j3jicatA, beneath. PioeZimg-stcoi, dwelling-place. 

21. Sarj/, sorrowful, iietie, counsel ; consultation. For- 
fairn, forlorn ; lost, gone. Tyne, (verb neut.) Le 

lost ; perish. 

22. Will of Rede, bewildered of thought ; in the Danish 
original ^^vildraadige,^' Lat. " inops consilii." This 
expression is left among the desiderata in the Glos- 
sary to Ritson's Romances, and has never been ex- 
plained. Fare, go. 

i;4J, Rud, red of the cheek. Clem'd, in the Danish, 
klcmt; (which in the north of England, is still in 
use, as the word starved is with us;^ brought to a 
dying state. It is used by our old comedians. Harm, 
grief ; as in the original, and in the old Teutonic, 
English, and Scottish poetry. 

24. Waefu, woful. Moody, strongly and wilfully pas 
sionate. iJcw, take ruth ; pity. C/wsecZy, unhappy ; 
unblest. Wierd, fate. Fa, (Isel. Dan. and Swed.) 
take ; get ; acquire ; procure ; have for my lot. Thia 
Gothic verb answers, in if.s direct and secondary sig- 
nification exactly to the Latin capio ; and Allan Ram- 
say was right in his definition of the word. It is quite 
a different word from /a', an abbreviation of 'fall, or 
befall ; and is the principal root in Fangen, to fang, 
take, or lay hold of. 

05. Fay, faith. Mold, mould ; earth. Mat, mote ; 
might. Maun, mist. Mell, mix. EL an elf- This 
term, in the Welch, signifies what has in itself the 
power of motion ; a moving principle ; an intelli- 
gence-, a spirit; an angel. In the Hebrew it bears 
ihe same import. 

26. Minted, attempted; meant; showed a mind, of 
intention to. The original is : 



NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH, 207 

' Ilande mindte hende forst— og anden gang ;— 

Hun eiordis i hiorlet sa vee : 
End blefhand den lediste diefvel 

Miind kunde med oyen see. 
Det hande vilde mindc den tiedie gang, &c. 

27. Sijth, tide ; time. Kyth, appear. 

28. Stotmd, hour ; time; moment. 

29. Merry, (old Teul. ?7iere,) famous; renowned ; an- 
swering, in its etymological meaning, exactly to the 
Latin mactus. Hence merry-men, as the address of a 
chief to his ibilovvers ; meaning not men of mirth, but 
of renown. 

31. Jtfenrf*, amends ; recompense. 

33. Maik, match; peer; equal. Proprine, pledge; 

gift. 
3.5. Oe, an island of the second magnitude; an island of 

ihe first magnitude being called a land, and one of the 

third magnitude a holm. 
36. Cowr'd, recovered. 

THE GHAIST'S WARNING. 

Translated from the Danish Kosmpe Viser. 

By the permission of Mr. Jamieson, this ballad is added 
from the same curious collection. It contains some 
passages of great pathos. There are two or three 
verses omitted. 

Svend Dyring hand rider sig up ondtr oe, 

( Vare jeg selver ung,) 
Der fcBste hand sig saa ven en moe. 

{Mi lyster udi lunden at ride,) 4*c. 

Child Dyring has ridden him up under oe,* 

(And O gin I were young .') 
There he has wedded sae lair a may, 

(/' the greenwood it lists me to ride.) 

Thegither they liv'd for seven lang year, 

{And 0, ^c.) 
And they seven bairns hae gotten in fere. 

(/' the greenwood, ^c.) 

* " Under oe." The original expression has been 
preserved here and elsewhere, because no other could 
be found to supply its place. There is just as much 
meaning in it in the translation as in the original ; but 
it is a standard Danish ballad phras',and; as such, it is 
Jioped, will be allowed to pass 



208 NOTES TO CANTO FOVRTH. 

Sae Death's come there intill that stead, 

And that winsun lily flower is dead. 

That swaine he has ridden him up under oe, 

And syne he has married anilher may. 

He's married a may, and he's fessen her hame ; 

But she was a grim and a laidly dame. 

Whan into the castell court drave she, 

The seven bairns stood with the tear in their ee, 

Nor ale nor meed to the bairnies she save: 

"But hunger und hate trae me ye's have.'' 

She took from them the bol>ler blae. 

And said "Ye sail li^g i' th(J bare sUae!" 

She took frae them them the groff wax light ; 

Says, "Now she sail ligg i' the mark a' night!" 

'Twas lang i' the night, and the bairnies gratj 

Their milher she under the mools heard that 5 

That heard the wife under the card that lay ; 

" Forsooth maun I to my bairnies gae !" 

That wife can stand up at our lord's knee, 

And " mayl gang and my bairnies see?" 

JShe prigged sae sair, and she prigged sae lang, 

That he at the last gae her leave to gang, 

♦' And thou sail come back when the cock does craw, 

For thou nae langer sail bide awa." 

Wi' her banes sa stark, a bowt she gave ; 

f^he's riven baith wa' and marble gray.* 

Whan near to the dwalling she can gang, 

The dogs they wow 'd till the lift itrang.^ 

Whan she cam till the castell yett, 

Her eldest ddchter stood thereat. 

'« Why sttind ye here, dear dnchter mine? 

How are sma briihers and sisters thine? 

" Forsooth ye':e a woman baith fair and fine ; 

]{utyeare naedeat mither mine." 

* In thi? stanza stark agrees with banes, and not with 
bowt. The original is, 

" Hun skod op sine modige been, 
l)er reverendemurog graa marmot stecn." 
X The original of this stanza, as well as the foregoing) 
is very fine ; 
" Der hun gik igennem den by, 
De hunde de iude sar hoijt i sky.'" 



NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 209 

'' Och I how should I he fine or faii ? 

My cheek ii is pale, and liie ground's my lair.' ' 

" My milher was white, wi' lire sae red ; 

But thou ait wan, and liker ane dead ?" 

"Och! how should I be white and red, 

But thou art wan, and liker and dead ?'' 

Whan she cam till tlie chalmer in, 

Down thd b lira's cheeks, the tears did rin. 

Shebuskit thetane, and she brusli'd it there i 

She keni'd and plaited the titlier's hair. 

Till lierfsldest dochter syne said she, 

" Ye bid Child Drying come here to me." 

Whan he cam to the chihner in, 

Wi' angry mood she said to him : 

" I left yerouth o' ale and bread ; 

My bairnies quail for hunger and need. 

" I left ahind me braw bowsters blae ; 

My bairnies are liggin i'the barestrae. 

'' I left ye sae mony a groff wax light , 

My bairnies ligg i' the mark a' night. 

" Gin alt I come back to visit thee, 

Wae, dowy, and weary thy luck sail be " 

'= Up spak little Kirstin in bed that lay ; 

" To my bairnies I'ildo the best 1 may." 

Ay whan they heard the dog nirr and bell, 

See gaethey the bairnies bread and ale, 

Ay whan the dog did wow, in haste 

They cross'd and sain'd themselves fraie the ghaist, 

"Ay whan the littte dog yowl'd wi' fear 

They shook at the thought that the dead was nnar. 

(/' theOreenwood it lists me to ride,') 

or, 

{Fair words sae mony a heart they cheer.) 

GLOSSARY. 

Stanza 1. J\Iay, mind. Lists, p\eases. 

2. Babns,, children. In fere, together. TViufun^ 

engaaing ; giving joy, (old Teut.) 
3 Stead, place. 

4. Syne, then. 

5. FesscH, fetched ; brought. 

17* 



210 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH, 

6. Drave, drove. 

7, Dule, sorrow. Dout, fear. 

9. Bojc iter, bolatet', cmtiing; bed. Blae,b]\ie. Strae, 
straw. 

10. Oroff, great; large in girt. Mark mhk ; dark. 

11. Lanoi' the night, \a.le. Oral, wept. Mools , mould \ 
earth. 

12. £ar<i, earlh. Gac, go. 

13. Prigged, entreated earnestly and perseveringly. 

14. Gang, go. 

15. CrajCjCrow. 

16. Banes, hones. Stark, strong. Bowt, bolt ; elastic 
spring, like that of a bailor arrow from a bow. Riven, 
Bill t asunder. fTa,' wall. 

17.' fVoic^d, howled. Lift^sky ; firmament j air. 

18, Fe«,gate, 

19 S/na, srsall. 

22. Lire, complexiou. 

93. Cald, cold. 

24. Till, to. Bin, run. 

25. Buskit, dressed. Keni'd, combed. Thither, the 
other. 

28. Routh, plenty. Quail, are quelled ; die. J\reed, 
want, 

29. jSAinrf, behind. 5ra?c brave •, fine. 
31, Dowy, sorrowful. 

33. JVirr, snarl. Bell, hark. 

34. Sained, blessed: literally signed with the sign of 
the cross. Qhaist, ghost. 

KOTE VII. 

Up spoke the moody Elfin king, 

Who won'>d within the hill. Stanza xlii. line 5. 

In a long dissertation upon the Fairy superstition, 
published in the minslielsy of the Scottish Bolder, the 
most valuable part of which was supplied by my learned 
and indefatigable triend. Dr. John Leyden, most of the 
circumstances are collected which can throw light upon 
the popular belief which even yei prevails respecting 
them inScolland, Dr. Giahame, author of an entertain- 
ing work upon the Scenery of the Perthshire highlands, 
already frequently quoted, lias recorded with great 
accuracy, the peculiar tenets held by the highlanders on 
this topic, in the vicinity of Loch-Kalriiie. '1 he learned 
author is inclined to deduce the whole mythology from 
the Druidical system— an opinion to which there are 
many objections. 

'' The Vaoine Shi,,^* ormen of peace of the highlan- 
dere, though not absolutely malevolent, are believed to 



NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH, 211 

be .1 peevish repining race of beings, who, possessing 
Uiemselves but a scanty portion of happiness, are sup- 
posed to envy manlcind their move complete and sub- 
Btantial enjoyment. They are supposed to enjoy, in 
their aubteiraneo'is recesses, a sort of shadowy liappi- 
ness,— a tinsel grondeur: which, however, they would 
willingly exchan.'e for the more solid joys of morality. 

" They are be.'ieved to inhabit certain grassy emi- 
nences, where they celebrate iheir nocturnal festivities 
by the light of the moon. About a mile beyond the 
source of the Forth, above Lochcon, there is a plate 
called Ceirshi'an, or the Cave of the Men ofPe.ice, 
which is slili supposed to be a favourite place of heir 
residence. In the neighborliood are to be seen r.any 
round, conical eminences; particularly one, near the 
head of the lake, by the skirts of which many are still 
afraid to pass after sunset. It is believed, that if, on 
Halloweve, any prirson, alone, goes round one of these 
hills nine times: towards the left hand {sinistnyrsum,) 
adworshall open, by which lie shall be admitted into 
their subtetranejus abodes. Many it is said of mortal 
race, have been entertained in their secret recesses. 
There theyhavj been received into the mo^-t splendid 
apartments, and regaled with l he most sumptuous ban- 
quets, and delicious wines. Their females surpass the 
daughters of men in beauty. Tlie seemingly happy 
inhabitants pass their time in festivity, and in dancing 
to notes of the softest music. But happy is the mortal 
who joins in their joys, or ventures to ; irtake of their 
dainties. By this indulgence, he forfuits for ever the 
society of men, and is bound down irrevocably to the 
condition of a Shi'ich, or man of peace. 

" A woman, as is reported in the highland tradition, 
was conveyed, in days of yore, in* > the secret recesses of 
the men of peice. There she was recognized by one 
who had formerly been an ordinary mortal, t;ut who 
had, by some fatality, broome a,«sociated witL he Slii'- 
ichs. This acquaintance, still retaining son.^ irtion of 
human benevolence, warned her of her danger, and 
counselled her, as she valu-^d her liberty, to abstain from 
eating and drinking witli vnem, for a certain space of 
time. She complied with the counsel of her triend: 
and when the period assigned was elapsed, she founa 
herself again upon earth, restored to the society of 
moitals. Jt is added, that when she examined the 
viands which had been presented to her, and which 
had appeared so tempting to the eye, they were found, 
now that the enchantment was removed, 'to consist only 
»f the refuseof theearth."— p. 107—111. 



3JS NOTES TO CAN'l'O FOURTH. 

Note VIII. 
Jfhy sounda yon stroke on hrarh and oak, 

Our moovlif^ht circle''s screen ? 
Or who cowfs here to chase the dcer^ 

Beloved of our Elfin Queen ? Stanza xiii. line 9, 
It has been already oliserved, that fairies, if not posi- 
tively malevolent, are capricious, and easily offended. 
They aie, like other pioprieiors of Jorests peculiarly 
jealous of their vi<ihls of vert and venison, as appears 
f.om the cause of offence taken, in the original Danish 
ballad. This jealousy was also an attribute of ihe 
northern Duer^ar^ or dwarfs ; to many of whos-e dis- 
tinctions the fairies seem to have succeeded, if, indeed, 
I hey are not the same class of beings. In the huge 
metrical record of German chivalry, entitled the Helden- 
buch, Sir Hildebraud, and the other heroes of whom it 
treats , are en^'aged in one of their most desperate adven- 
tures, from a rash violation of the rose-garden of an 
Elfin, or Dwarf King. There are yet traces of a belief 
in this wo: St and most malicious order of fairies among 
the Corder wilds. Dr. Leyden has introduced such a 
dwarf into his ballad entitled the Cout of Keeldar, and 
has not forgot his characteristic detestaliorr of the chase. 
" The third blast that young Keeler blew. 

Still stood the linrbcr fern, 
And a wee rnan of a swarthy hue, 

Upstarted by a cairn. 
" His russet weeds were browu as heath, 

That clothes the upland fell ; 
And the hair of his head was frizzly red 

As the purple heather bell. 
" An urchin, clad in prickles red, 

(Jlung cowrir'g to his arm ; 
The hounds tiiey howl'd, and backward fled, 

As struck by a fairy charm. 
" Why rises high the slaehound's cry, 
Where stag- hound ne'er should be? 
Why wakes that born the silent morn, 

Without the leave of me .' 
'• Brown dwarf, that o'er the miiirland strays, 

Thy name to Keeldar tell I"— 
The Brown Man of the Mnhe, who stays 

Beneath the heather bell." 
" 'Tis sweet beneath the heather bell g 

To live in autumn brown; 
And sweet to hear the lav'rocks swell 
Far, far from tower and town. 



NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH, 213 

" But \vo betide the shrilling horn. 

The chase's siniy cheer ! 
And ever that hunter is forlorn, 
W horn first at morn I hear." 

Tlie poetical picture here given of the Duegar, cenes- 
ponds exactly willi the tnllowing Northumbrian legend, 
Willi which I Wiis lately favoured by my learned and 
kind friend, Mr. t^uit^^es of R'ain forth, who has besrowed 
indelatiyahif :.ihou! upon thj antiquities of the li^ng" !i 
bo der rouniies. Thesul jc:t is in itstli so curiou.;, that 
the lengih of the nolo will, 1 hope, be pardoned. 

" 1 i-iiive onb one lecoru toofler of Uie appearr. ice of 
our Noriiiuinbrian Duergar. My .lairatix is Elizabeth 
Cockbnrn, an old wifeot Ofierton, in this county, whose 
credit, ill a cas« of this kind, will not, I hope, be much 
impeached, when J add, that she is, by her dull neigh- 
lioiirs, gu[iposed to be occasionally insane, but, by her- 
self, to be at those times endowed with the faculty of 
seeing visions and spectral appeaiancesj which shun the 
common ken. 

"In the year before tJi.? great rebellion, two young 
laen from Newcastle were sporting on the high moors 
above Elsdon, and alter pursuing their game several 
hours, sat down to dine, in a green glen, near one of the 
mountain streams. After their repast, the younger lad 
ran to the brook for water, and after stooping to drink, 
Was surprised on lifting up his head again, by the ap- 
pearance of a brown dwarf, which stood on a ciaig 
covered with brackens, across the burn. This extra- 
ordinary personage did not appear to be above half 
the stature of a common man, but was uncommonly stout 
and broad buiii having the app*»arance of vast strength. 
His d'-ess was entirely brown, the colour of the brackens, 
and his head covered with frizzled red hair. His coun- 
tenance was exp'e.-siveof the most savage ferocity, and 
his eyes glared like a bull It seems, he 'idiessed the 
young man hrA, llneatening him with Iks vengeance, 
for havi trespassed on his demesnes, ai;d a^^king him, 
if he knew in wliose presence he stood' The yorh 
re; lied, that he now supposed him to be ths lord of the 
moors; thiTl be offended through ignorance; and of- 
fered to bi ii.g ijim the game he had killed. 'J'he dwarf 
was a little moilified by this submission, hut remarked, 
that nothing could be more offensive to him than such an 
offer, as he considered the wild animals as his subjects, 
and never failed to avenge their destruction. He con- 
descended fuitlier to inform him, tbat he was, like him- 
self, mortal, though of years far exceeding the lot of 
■amnmon hnmanity • and (what 1 slvjuld not have had 



214- i^OTES TO CANTO FOURTH, 

an idea of,) thai he hoped for salvation. He nevsr, Ihp 
addctljled on any tlihig Ihax had iile, but lived, in Utc 
sunnner, on whorllelien ies, and, in the winter, on mils 
and apples, of which he had gieal store in the woods, 
Finahy, he invited his new acquaintance to accompany 
him home, and partake his hospitality; an offer which 
the youth was on the point of accepting, and was just 
going to spring across the brooli, (which if lie had 
done, says Elizabeth, the dwarf would certainly have 
torn hiiu in pieces,) when his foot was arrested by the 
voice of his companion, who thought he tamed long; 
and on looking round again, " the wee brown man whs 
fled." The story adds, that he was imprudent enougi/i 
to slight the admonition, and to sport over the moors, 
on his way homewards ; but, soon after his return, he 
fell into a lingering disoider, and died within the year.' ' 
Note XII. 
Or who may dare on wold to wear 
The fairy 's festal green. Stanza xiii, line 13. 
As the Daoine Shi', or men of peace, wore green 
habits, they were supposed to take offence when any 
mortals ventured to assume their favourite colour. In- 
deed, from some reason, which lias been, perhaps, 
originally a general superstition, green is held in Scot- 
land to be unlucky to particular tribes and counties. 
Tlie Caithness men, who hold this belief, allege, as a 
leason, that^their bands wore that colour when they 
were cut off at the battle of Flodden ; and for the same 
reason they avoid crossing the Ord on a Monday, being 
the day of the week on which their ill-omened array 
set forth. Green is also disliked by those of the name of 
Ogilvy , but more efpecially it is held fatal to the whole 
clan of Grahame. It is remembered of an aged gentle- 
man of that name, that when his horse fell in a fox- 
chase, he accounted for it at once, by observing, that the 
■whip-cord attached to his iasii was of this unlucky 
colour. 

Note X. 
For thou iDcrt chriuen'd man. Stanza xiii. line 16. 
The Elves weie supposed greatly to envy the pii 
vileges acquired by Christian imitations, and they gave 
to those mortals who had fallen into their power, a 
certain precedence, founded upon this advantageous 
distinction. Tamlane, in the old ballad, describes hia 
own rank in the fairy procession ; 

" For I ride on a milk-white steed, 

And aye nearest the town ; 
Because I was a christened knight. 
They gie me that renown. '' 



NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. ai5 

'1 presume that in the Danish ballad, the obstinacy of 
the " Weiest Elf, who would not flee for cross orsign. i.s 
lobederived from the circumstance of his having been 
" christened man." 

How eager the elves were to obtain for their ofispring 
the prerogatives of chrislianity, will be proved by the 
following story. " la the district called riaga, in Ice- 
land, dwelt a nobleman called Sigward Foisier, who 
had an intrigue with one of the subterranean females. 
The Elf became pregnant, and exacted from her lover a 
firm promise that he would procure the baptism of the 
infant. At the appoiBted time, the mother came to the 
churchyard, on the wall of which she placed a golden 
cup, and a stole for the priest, agreeably to the cus- 
tom of making an offering at baptism siie then stood 
a little apart. When the priest left the church, he in- 
quired the meaning of what he saw, and demanded of 
Sigward, if heavowed himself the father of the child. 
But Sigward ashamed of the connection, denied the 
paternity. He was then interrogated if he desired that 
the child should be; baptized; but this also he an- 
swered in the negative, lest by such request, he should 
admit himself to be the fatlier. On whicli the child 
was left untouched, and unbaptized. Whereupon the 
mother, in extjeme wrath, snatched up the infant and 
the cup, and retired, leaving the priestly cope, of 
which fragments are still in preservatiou. But this 
female denounced and imposed upon Sigward, and 
his posterity to the ninth generation, a singular disease, 
with which many of his descendants are afflicted at 
this day." Thus wrote Elnar Gudmuiid, pastor of the 
parish of Garpsdale in Iceland, a man prolbundly versed 
in learning, from whose manuscript it was extracted 
by the learned Torfseus.—Histuria Hrolfi Krakii, Ilaf 
nim. 1715, pref alio. 

Note XI. 
And gaily shines the fairy land ; 

But all is glistening show. Stanza, xv. line 5, 
No fact respecting Fairy-land seems to be better 
ascertained than the fanta'tic and illusory nature of 
their apparent pleasure and splendour. It has been 
already noticed, in the former quotations from Dr Gra 
hame's entertaining volume,and may be confirmed by the 
following highland tradition. " A woman, whose new- 
horn child had been conveyed by them intci their secret 
.ibodes, was also carried thither herself, to remaiji, how- 
ever, only until she could suckle her intant. 8he one 
Tiay, during this period, observed the t^hiichs busHy em • 
ployed in mixing various ingredients in a boiling caif!r(>n ; 



216 NOTES TO (JANTO FOURTH.' 

and, as soon as the comp03itioa was prepared, she 
re-riaiked that they all carefully anointed their eyes 
With it, laying the remainder aside, for future use. In 
a moment when iliey were nlsn absent, she also at' 
tempied to anoint har eyes with the precious dm?, but 
bad time to apply it to one eye only, when the Daoine 
SAi returned. But wih that he was hencefo-th enabled 
to see every thing as it really pas-ed in tlieir secret abodes 
—she saw every object, not as she hitherto had done, 
in deceptive splendour and elegance, but in Us genuine 
colours and forms. The gaudy ornaments of the apart- 
ments were reduced to the walls of a gloomy cavern. 
Soon after, having discharged her office, she was dis- 
missed to her own home. Still, however, she retained 
the faculty of seeing, with her medicated eye, every 
thing that was done, any where in her presence, by the 
deceptive art of the order. One day, amidst a throng of 
people, she chanced to observe the Shi'-icfi, or man of 
peace, in whose possession she had left the child; 
though to every other eye invisible. Prompted by 
maternal atfection, she inadvertetnly accosted him, and 
began to inquire after the we fare of her child. The 
man of peace, astonished at being thus recognized by 
one of mortal race, demanded how she had been 
enabled to discover him. Awed by aternble frown of 
his countenance, she acknowledged vvh-.tshe had done. 
He spat in hereye, and extinguished it for ever." Ora- 
harness Sketches, t(\. 116 — 118. Jt is very rem xakab'e 
that this story, translated by Dr. Grahame from popular 
Gaelic tra lilion, is to be found in the Otia ImperialiA 
of Gervase of Tilbury. A work of great interest might 
be compiled upon the origin of popular fiction, and the 
transmission of similar tales from age to age and from 
country to country. The mythology of one period 
would then appear to puss into the romance of the 
next centuiy, and that into the nursery-tate of the 
subsequent ages. Such an investigation, whileit went 
greatly to dininish our ideas of the richness of hu- 
man invention, vi'ould also show, that Ihe^e fictions, 
however wild and childish, possess siuh charms for 
the populace, as enable them to penetrate into countries 
unconnected by manners rnd language, and having 
no apparent intercourse to aftbrd the means of trans- 
miFsion. It would csrry me far beyond my bounds, 
to produce instances of this, community of fabb, among 
nations will never borrowed from each other anv thing 
jntrinsically worth learning Indeed, the wf8e dif- 
fusion of popular fiction may be compared to the dx 
4)1Jty with which ?tr;iw3 and feathers aie dispersed 



NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH 217 

abroad by the wind, while valuable metals cannot be 
transported without trouble andjabour. There lives, I 
believe, only one gentleman, whose unlimited ac- 
quaintance with this subject might enable him to do it 
justice ; I mean my friend Mr. Francis Douce, of the 
British Museum, whose usual kindness will, I hope, 
pardon my mentioning his name, while on a subject 
so closely connected with his extensive and curious 
researches. 

NOTB XII. 



-his Highland cheer, 



The harden'dflesh of mountain-deer. St. xxi. 1. 1, 
The Scottish highlanders, informer timeSjhad a con- 
cise mode of cooking their venison, or rather of dispen- 
sing with cooking it, which appears greatly to have 
surprised the French, whom chance made acquainted 
wich it. The Vidame of Chartres, when a hostage in 
England, during the reign of Edward VI. was permit- 
ted to travel into Scotland, and penetrated as far as 
the remote Highlands, {au fin fond dcs Sauvages.) 
After a great hunting party, at wnicli a most wonder- 
ful quantity of game was destroyed, he saw these 
Scottish savages devour a part ol their venison raw, 
without any further preparation than compressing it 
between two battons of wood, so as to force out the 
blood, and render it extremely hard. This they reck- 
oned a great delicacy ; and when the Vidame partook 
of it, his compliance with their taste rendered him ex- 
tremely popular. This curious trait of manners was 
communicated by Mons. de Montmorency, a great 
friend of the Vidame, to Brantome, by whom it is re- 
corded in Vies des Homines Illustress, Discours, Ixxxii. 
art. 14. The process by which the raw venison was 
rendered eatable, is described very minutely in the 
romance of Perceforest, where Eslonne, a Scottish 
knight-errant, having slain a deer, says to his compa- 
nion Claudius; " Sire, or mangerez vous etmoy aussi. 
Voire si nous anions de feu, dit Claudius. Par I'ame de 
mon pere, dist Estonne, ie vous aiourneray etcuiray a 
la maniere de nostre pays comr^ie pour cheualier errant. 
Lors tira son espee et sen vint a la branche dung arbre, 
et y fait vng grant trou, et puis feud la branche bien 
deux piedgz et boute la cuisse du cerf entredeux, et 
puis prent le lileol de son cheval et en lye labranche et 
destraint si fort que le san j; et les humerus de la chair 
saillent hors et demeure la chair doulce et seiche. Lora 
prent la chair et oste ius le cuir et la chalre denieure 
aussi blanche comme si ce fcust dung ch;ippon. Dont 

18 



2\2 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 

(list a Claudius, Sire ie la vous ay cuiate a la guise dy 
mon pays, vous en poiiez manger hardyement, carie 
mangeiay premier. Lors met sa main a saselle en vng 
lieu quil y auoit, et tire liors sel at poiidre de poiure et 
gingembre, mesle ensemble, et le iecte dessus, et le 
frote sus bien fort, puis le couppe a moy tie, et en donne 
a Claudius I'une des pieces, at puis inort en I'autre 
aussi sauoureusement quil est aduis que il en feist la 
pouldre voller. Quant Claudius veit quil le mangeoit 
detel goust il en print grant fain et commence a manger 
tresvoulentiers, et dist a Estonne : Par lame de moy, 
ie ne mangeay oncquesmais de chair atourriee de telle 
guise ; mais doresenauant ie ne me retourneroye pas 
liors de monchemin par aunir la cuite. Sire, dist Es- 
tonne, quans ie suis ens desers d'Escosse, dont ie 
suis signieur, ie cheuaucheray huit idours ou quinze que 
ien'treray en chastel ne en maison, etsi ne vetray feu 
ne personne viuaiit fors que bestes, sauuage^, et de cel- 
les mangeray atournees en veste maniere, et mieulx me 
plairia que la viande de I'empereur. Arnsi sen vont 
mangeaut et cheuauchant insques adonc quiiz arriuerent 
suruiie moult belle fontaine qui estoit en vne valee. 
Quant Estonne la vit, il dist a Claudius, allons boire a 
ceste fontaine. Or beuuons, dist Estonne, du boire que 
le grant Dieu a pourneu a ton, routes gens, et qui me 
plaist mieulx que les ceruoises d'Angleterre." —La Tres- 
elegante Hystoire dti tresiroble Roy Perceforest. Paris, 
J531. ful. tome I. fol. Iv. vers. 

After all, it may be doubted whether la Chaire nos- 
trce, for so the French call the venison thus summarily 
prepared, was any thing more than a mere rude kind of 
(kei ham. 



PfOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. 



Note I. 

■J\i''ot then clainVd sovci-eignty his due, 
IVhilc Mbany , with feeble hand, 
Held bon-oto'd truncheon of command. St. vi line 12. 
There is scarcely a more disorderly period in Scottish 
history than that which succeeded the battle of Flod- 
<iei), and occupied tlie miiiority of James V. Feuds 
of ancient standing broke out like old wound:*, and 
every quarrel anionp liie independent nohiliiy, whici) 
occurred daily, and almost hourly, gave jise to Iresli 
bloodshed. '• 'J'liere arose,'' says Pit-cotte, " great trou- 
ble and deadly feuds in many parts of Scotland, both in 
the north and west parts. '1 lie master of Forbes, in the 
north, slew the Laird of IVIeidruni under tryst, (i. e. at 
an agreed and secure meeting:) Likewise the Laird 
of Drumnielziar slew the Lord Flcmniing at the hawk- 
ing ; and likewise, Ihere was slaughter among many 
other great lords.'' p. 131. JN'or was ihe matter much 
mended under the government of the Earl of Angus ; for 
tirough he caused the kmg to ude through all hcotland, 
"under pretence and colour of justice, to punish thief 
and traitor, none were found greater than was in their 
own company. And nane at that time durst strive with 
a Douglas, nor yet with a Douglas's man, for if ihey did, 
they got the worst. 'I'herefoie, none durst plainzie of 
no BAtortion, theft, retift',noislaushlerdone to them by 
the Douglases, or their men; in trial cause they weie 
not heard so long as the Douglases had the ccurt in 
guiding." — Ibid. p. 133. 

Note II. 
The Oael, of plain and river heir, 
Shall with strong hand, redeem, his share. St vii.1.31 
The ancient Highlanders verified in their practice the 
3ines of Gray :— 

An iron race the mountain cliffs maintain, 
Foes to the gentler genius of the plain ; 
For where unwearied sinews must be found. 
With side-loinr plough to quell th« flinty ground ; 
To turn the torrent's swift descending Hood ; 
To tame the savage, rushing (rom the wood ; 
What wonder it', to patient valour train'd, 
Tiiey guard with spirit what by strength they gain"4 ; 



220 NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. 

And while their rocky ramparts round they see 
The rough abode of want and liberty, 
(As lawless force from confidence will grow,) 
Insult the plenty of the vales below. 
Fragment on the Alliance of Education and Govern- 
ment. 

So far, indeed, was a Creaghor foray from being held 
disgraceful, that a young chief was always expected to 
show his talents for command so soon as he assumed it, 
by leading his clan on a successful enterprise of this 
nature, either against a neighbouring sept, for which 
constant feuds usually furnished an apology, or against 
the Sassenach^ Saxons or lowlanders, lor which no 
apology was necessary. The Gael, great traditional his- 
torians, never forgot that the lowlands had, at some 
remote period, been the property of their Celtic fore, 
fathers, which furnished an ample vindication of all (he 
ravages that they could make on the unfortunate dis- 
tricts which lay within their reach. Sir James Grant of 
Grant is in possession of a letter of apology from Came- 
ron of Lochiel, whose men had committed some depre- 
dation upon a farm called Moines, occupied by one of 
the Grants. Lochiel assures Grant, that however the 
mistake had happened, his instructions were precise, 
that the party should foray the province of Moray, (a 
lowland district,) where, as he cooly observes, " all men 
take their prey." 

Note III. 



-I only meant 



To show the reed on which you leant, 
Deeming this path you might pursue, 
Without a pass from Roderick Dhu. St. xi. line 15. 

This incident, like some other passages in the poem 
illustrative of the character of the ancient Gael, is not 
imaginary, but borrowed from fact. The Highlanders, 
with the inconsistency of most nations in the same state, 
were alternately capable of great exertions of generosity, 
and of cruel revenge and perfidy. The following 
story I can only quote from tradition, but with such an 
assurance from those by whom it was communicated, 
as permits me little doubt of its authenticity. Early in 
the last century, John Gunn, a noted Catheran, or 
highland robber, infested Inverness-shire, and levied 
black mail up to the walls of the provincial capital. A 
garrison was then maintained in the castle of that town, 
and their pay (country banks being unknown,) was 
usually transmitted in specie, under the guard of a small 



NOTKS TO CANTO FOURTH. 221 

eteort. It chanced that the otficer that commanded this 
little party was uuexpectedly obliged to halt, about 
thirty miles from Inverness, at a miserable inn. About 
nightfall, asiranger, in the hijihiand dress, and of very 
prepossessing appearance, enteied the same house. 
Separate accommodatiiais being impossible, the English- 
man offered the newly arrived guest a part of his sup- 
per, which was accepted with reluctance. By the cr)n- 
versationhe found his acquaintance knew W.-11 all the 
passes of the country, which induced him eagerly to 
request his company on the ensuing moining. He 
neither disguised his business and chaiee, norhisappie- 
hensio<i of that celebrated freebooter, John Gunn. The 
highlander hesitated a moment, and then frankly con- 
sented to be his guide. Forth they set in the moining; 
and in travelling through a solitary and dreary glen, the 
discourse again turned on John Gunn. " Would you 
like to see him .-*'' said ilie guide ; and without waiting 
an ansvverto ihis al.niniing question, he whistled, and 
the English officer, with his small party, were surroun- 
ded by a body of highlanders whose numbers put resis- 
tance out of (]uesiioii, and who were all well armed. 
" Stranger," lesumed the guide, " I am that very John 
Gunu by whom you feared to be intercejited, and not 
wuhout cause j for I came to the inn last night with the 
express purpose of learning your route, that I and my 
followers might ease you of your charge by the road. 
But I am incapable of betraying the trust you leposed in 
me, and having convinced you that you were in my 
]u)wer, 1 can only dismiss you unplundered and unin- 
jure;l." lie then gave the officer directions for hia 
journey, and disappeared with his party, as suddenly aa 
they had presented themselves. 

Note IV. 

For trained abroad his arms to tcield, 

Fiti -Jameses blade was stoord and shield. St. xv. 1. 5. 

The u«e of defensive armour, and particularly of the 
buckler or target, was general in Queen Elizabeth's 
time, although th;it of the single rapier seema to have 
been occasionally practised much earlier * Rowland 
Yorke, however, who betrayed the fort of Zulphin to 
the Spaniards, for which good seivice he was afterward 
poisoned by them, is said to have been the first who 
brouzht the rapier fight into general use. Fuller, 
speaking of the Swash-bucklers, or bullies of Queen 

* See Douce'3 Illiistration of Shakspeare, vol. II p. 61. 
17* 



222 NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. 

Elizabeth's time says, " West-Smithfield was formerly 
called Ruffian's Hall, where such men usually met, 
casually or otherwise, to try masteries with sword and 
buckler. More were frightened than hurt, more hurt 
than killed therewith, it being accounted unmanly to 
strike beneath the knee. But since that desperate trai- 
tor Rowland Yorke first introduced thrusting with 
rapiers, sword and buckler are disused.'' In The Two 
Angry Woman of Abingdon, a comedy, printed m 1599, 
we have a pathetic complaint ; — " Sword and buckler 
fight begins to grow out of use. I am sorry for it : I 
shall never see good manhood again. If it be once gone, 
this poking fight of rapier and dagger will come up ; 
then a tall man, and a good sword and buckler man, 
will be spitted like a cat or rabbit." But the rapier 
had upon the continent long superseded, in private duel, 
the use of sword and shield. The masters of the noble 
science of defence were chiefly Italians. They made 
great mystery of their art and mode of instruction, never 
suffered any person to be present but the scholar who 
was to be taught, and even examined closets, beds, and 
other places of possible concealment. Their lessons 
oflen gave the most treacherous advantages ; for the 
challenger, having the right to chuse his weapons, fre- 
quently selected some strange, unusual, and inconve- 
nient kind of arms, the use of which he practised under 
these instructors, and thus killed at his ease his antago- 
nist, to whom it was presented for the first time on the 
field of battle. See Brantome^s Discourses on Duels, 
and the work on the same subject, " sigentement ecrit,^'' 
by the venerable Dr. Paris de Puieo. The highianders 
continued to use broadsword and target until disarmed 
after the affair of 1745 6. 

Note V, 
Like mountain- cat, that guards her young, 
Full at Fitz-James^s throat he sprung. St. xv. 1. 5. 
I have not ventured to render this duel so savagely 
desperate as that of the celebrated Sir Ewan of Lochiel, 
chief of the clan Cameron, called from his sable com- 
plexion, Ewan Dhu. He was the last man in Scotland 
who maintained the royal cause during the great civil 
war, and his constant incursions rendered him a very 
unpieasing neighbour to the republican garrison at Iver- 
lochy, now Fort William. The governor of ihe fort 
detached a party of three hundred men to lay waste 
Lochiel's possessions, and cut down his trees ; but in a 
sudden and desperate attack, made upon them by the 
chieftain, with very inferior numbers, they were almos t 



NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. 225 

all cut to pieces. The skirmish is detailed in a curious 
memoir of Sir Ewan's life, printed in the Appendix of 
Pennant's Scottish Tour. 

" In this engagement, Lcchiel himself had several 
wonderful escapes, in the retreat of the English, one 
of the strongest and bravest of the officers retired be- 
hind a bush, when he observed Lochiel pursuing, and 
seeing him unaccompanied with any, he leaped out, 
and thought him his prey. They met one another with 
equal fury. 'J'he combat was long and doubtful : the 
English gentleman had by far the advantage in strength 
and size ; but Lochiel exceeding him in nimbieness and 
agility, in ihe end tript the sword out of his hand: 
they closed, and wrestled, till both fell to the ground, In 
each other's arms. The English officer got above 
Lochiel, aud pressed him hard, hut stretching forth his 
neck, by attempting to disengage himself, Lochiel, who 
by this time had his hands at liberty, with his left hand 
seized him by the collar, and jumping at his extended 
throat, he bit it with his teeth quite thrc>u;:h, and kept 
such a hold of his grasp, that it brought away his mouth- 
ful. — This he said, was the sweetest bile he ever had in 
his life time.— Vol. L p. 375. 

Iv'OTE VL 

Ye towers! within whose circuit dread, 

A Douglas by his sovereign bled ; 

tRndthou, sad and fatal mound ! 

That oft has heard the death-axe sound! St. xx. 1. 17. 

Stirling was often polluted with noble blood. It is 
thus apostrophized by J. Jonston : 

Discordia tristes 

Heu quotiesprocerun sanguine tinxit humum 
Hocuno mfelix, at felix cetera, nusquam 
LiEtior autcceli frons geniusve soli. 

The fate of William, eighth Earl of Douglas, whom 
James II. st tbbed in Stirling Castle with his own hand, 
and while under his royal safe conduct, is familiar to al 
who rea I Scottish history. Murdack, Duke of Albany, 
Duncan. Earl of Lennox, his father-in-law, and his two 
sons. Waller and Alexander Stewart, were executed at 
Slirlina. in 1425. They were beheaded upon an emi- 
nence without the CaslJe walls, but making part of the 
same hill, from whence they could behold their strong 
castle of Doune, and their extensive possessions. This 
" heading hill," as it was sometimes termed, bears com 
monly the less terrible name of Hurley-hackel, from its 
having been the scene of a courtly amusement alluded 



224 NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. 

to by Sir David Lindsay, who says of the pastimes i 
which the young king was engaged, 

" Some harled him to the Hurley-hacket :" 
which consisted in sliding, in some sort of chair, it may 
be supposed, from top to bottom of a smooth bank- The 
boys of Edinburgh, about twenty years ago, used to play 
at the hurley-hacket on the Calton-hill, using for their 
seat a horse's skull. 

Note VII. 
The burghers hold their sports to-day. St. xx. line 37 
Every burgh of Scotland, of the least note, but more 
especially the considerable towns, had their solemn play 
or festival, when feats of archery were exhibited, and 
prizes distributed to those who excelled in wrestling, 
hurling the bar, and the other gymnastic exercises of the 
period. Stirling, a usual place of royal residence, was 
not likely to be deficient in pomp upon such occasions, 
especially since James V. was very partial to them. 
His ready participation in these popular amusemenig 
was one cause of his acquiring the title of King of The 
(Commons, or Rex Plebeioruin, as Lesley has latinized 
it. The usual prize to the best shooter was a silver ar- 
row. Such a one is preserved at Selkirk and at Peebles. 
At Dumfries a silver gun was substituted, and the con- 
tention transferred to fire arms. The ceremony, as 
there performed, is the subject of an excellent Scottish 
poem, by Mr. John Mayne, entitled the Siller Gun, 1808 , 
which surpasses the efforts of Furguson, and comes 
near those of Burns. 

Note VIII. 
Robin-Hood. Stanza xxii. line 6. 
The exhibition of this renowned Outlaw and his band 
was a favourite frolic at such festivals as we are descri- 
bing. This sport, in which kings did not disdain to be 
actors, was prohibited id Scotland upon the Reformation, 
by a statute of the 6th parliament of queen Mary, C. 61, 
A. D. 1555, which ordered, under heavy penalties, that 
«' na manner of person be chosen Robert Hude, nor 
little John, Abbot of Unreason , Queen of Mary, nor 
otherwise." But, in 1561, " the rascal multitude," says 
John Knox, " were stirred up to make a Robin Hude, 
whilk enormity was of many years left and damned by 
statute and act of parliament; yet would they not be 
forbidden.'' Accordingly they raised a very serious 
tumult, and at length made prisoners the magistrates, 
who endeavoured to suppress it, and would not release 



NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. 225 

them till they extorted a formal promise that no one 
should be punished for his share of the disturbance. It 
would seem, from the complaints of the General Assem- 
bly of the Kirk, that these profane festivities were con- 
tinued down to 1592.* Bold Robin was, to say the 
least, equally successful in maintaining his ground 
against the reformed clergy of England; for the simple 
and evangelical Latimer complains of coming to a coun- 
try church, where the people refused to hear him, be- 
cause it was Robin Hood's day, and his mitre and 
rochet were fain to give way to the village pastime. 
Much curious information on this subject may be found 
in the PreUminary Dissertation to the late Mr. Ritson's 
edition of the songs respecting this memorable outlaw. 
The game of Robin- Hood was usually acted in May; 
and he was associated with the morrice-dancers, on 
whom so much illustration has been bestowed by the 
commentators on Shakspeare. A very 'lively picture 
of these festivities, containing a great deal of curious 
information on the subject of the private life and amuse- 
ments of our ancestors, wag thrown, by the late inge- 
nious Mr. Strutt, into his Romance entitled Q,ueen-hoo 
Hall, published after his death, in 1808. 

Note IX. 

Indifferent as to archer wight, 

The Monarch gave the arrow bright. St. xxii. 1.22. 

The Douglas of the poem is an imaginary person, a 
supposed uncle of the Earl of Angus. But the King's 
behaviour during an unexpected interview whh the 
Laird of Kilsduidie, one of the banished Douglases, 
under circumstances similar to those in the text, is imi- 
tated from a real story told by Hume of Godscroft. I 
would have availed myself more fully of the simple and 
affecting circumstances of the old history, had they not 
been already woven into a pathetic ballad by my friend 
Mr, Finlay.f 

* Book of the Universal Kirk, p. 414, 

i See Scottish Historical and Romantic ballads, Glas- 
gow, 1808, vol. II. p. 117. Godscroft's story may also 
be found in the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, vol. I. 
Introduction p. 21, note. 



NOTES TO CANTO SIXTH. 

Note I. 

These drew net for their fields the sword, 

Like tenants of a feudal lord, 

JVor own^d the patriarchal claim 

Of chief tain in their leader^s name ; 

Adventurers they Stanza iii. line 1. 

The Scottish armies consisted chiefly of the nobility 
and barons, with their vassals, who held lands under 
them, for military service by themselves and their te- 
Jiants. The patriarchal influence exercised by the heads 
of clans in the highlands and borders was of a different 
nature, and sometimes nt variance with feudal principles. 
It flowed from the Patria Potestas, exercised by :he 
chieftain as representing the orrginal father of the whole 
name, and was often obeyed in contradiction to the feu- 
dal superior. James V. seems first to have introduced, 
in addition to the militia furnished from these sources, 
the service of a small number of mercenaries, who 
formed a bodyguard, called the Koot-Band. The 
satirical poet, sir David Lindsay, (or the person who 
wrote the prologue to his play of the " Three Estaites,") 
has introduced Finlay of the Foot-Band, who, after 
much swaggering on the stage, is at length put to flight 
by the fool, who terrifies him by means of a sheep's 
skull upon a pole. I have rather chosen to give them 
the harsh features of tiie mercenary soldiers of the 
period, than of this Scoiish 1'hraso. These partook of 
the character of the Adventurous Companions of 
Froissart, or the Condottieii of Italy. 

One of the best atrd liveliest traits of f uch manners is 
the last will of a leader, called GefTroy Tete Noir, who 
having been slightly wounded in a skirmish, his in- 
temperance brought on a mortal diseas-e. When he 
found himself dying, he summoned to his bedside the 
adventurers whom he commanded, and thus addressed 
them : 

" Fayre sirs, quod Gefl'ray,! know well ye have 
always served and honoured me as men nnght to serve 
their soveraygwe and captayne, and I shall be the glad- 
der if ye vvyll agre to have to your captayne one that is 
descended of my bloode. Behold here "Aleyne Koux, 
my cosyn, and Peter his biother, who are men of arms, 
and of my bloode. I require you to make Aleyne youre 
captayne, and to swear to him faythe, obeysaunce, love 
and loyalte, here in my presence, and also to his brother : 
hovve he it, r wyll that Aleyne have the soverayne charge. 



x\OTES TO CANTO SIXTH. 227 

Sir, quod they, we are well content, for ye hauve ryght 
well chosen. There all the companions made theym 
servyant to Aleyne Roux and to Peter his brother. 

Whan all that was done, then Geffrayespeak agayne, 
and sayde : ISowe, sirs, ye hauve obeyed lo my pleasure 
I caime you great tlianke ; wherefore, sirs, I wyll ye 
have parte of that ye have hojien to conquer. I saye 
unto you, that in yonder chest that ye se stande yonder, 
therein is to the sum of xxx thousande franks,— I wyll 
give them accordynge to ray conscynence. Wyll ye 
all be content to fulfyle my testament ; how say ye] 
Sir, quod they, we be ryght well contente to fulfyle 
your commandment. Thane firste, quod he, I wyll and 
give to the chapell of Saynt George, here in this castell, 
for the reparations thereof, a thousand and five hun- 
dred frankes: and I gyve to my lover, who hath 
trulely served me, two thousand and five hundred 
frankes: and also I gyve to Aleyne Roux.youre newe 
captayne, four thousand frankes ; also to the varlettesof 
my chambre, I gyve fyve hnndrede frankes. To myne 
ottycers I gyve a thousande and fyve hundrede frnnkes. 
The rest 1 gyve and bequeth as I shall shewe you. Ye 
be upon a ttiyrite companyons all of one sorte ; ye ought 
to be bretherne, and all of one alyaunce, without de- 
bate, ryotte, or stryfe among you. All this that I have 
shewed you ye shall fynde in yonder cheste. I wyll 
that ye depart all the resydue equally and iruelly bi- 
twene you thyrtie. And if ye be nat thus contente, but 
that the devyll wyll set debate belwene you, than be- 
holde yonder is a strong axe, breke up the cofier, and 
gelle it who can. To those wordes every man an- 
suered and said, Sir, and dere maister, we are and shall 
be all of one acord. Sir, we have so moche loved and 
douted you, that we will breke no cofier, nor bieke no 
poynt of that ye have ordayned and commanded."— 
Lord Bernei 's Froissart. 

Note II. 

Thou new hast glee-maiden and harp ; 

Oct the an ape, and trudge the land. 

The leader of a juggler band. Stanza vi. line 22. 

The jongleurs, or jugglers, as we learn from the ela- 
borate work of the late Mr. Strutt, on the Sports and 
Pastimes of the people of England, used to call in the 
aid of various assistants, to render these performances 
as captivating as possible. The glee-maiden was a 
necessary attendant. Her duty was tumbling and 
dancing •, and therefore the Anglo-Saxon version of the 
Saint Mark's Gospel states Herodias to have vaulted or 



laa NOTES TO CANTO SIXTH. 

•tumbled before king Herod. In Scotland, these poor 
creatures seem, even at a late period, to have been 
bonds women to their masters, as appears from a case 
reported by Fountainhall. " Reid the mountebanlc 
pursues ?cotof Harden and his lady, for stealing away 
from him a little girl, called the tumbllng-Iassie, that 
danced upon his stage; and he claimed damages, and 
produced a contract, whereby h6 bought he. fioni her 
mother, for 301., Scots. But we have no slaves in 
Scotland, and mothers cannot sell their bairns ; an« 
physicians attested, the employment of tumbling would 
hill lier ; and her joints were now grown stiff, and sh 
declined to return ; though she was at least a prentice, 
and so could not run away from her master : yet some 
cited Moses' law, that if a servant shelter himself with 
thee, against his master's cruelty, thou shalt surelv not 
deliver him up. The lords, revittnte canceliario, 
assoilized Harden, on the 27th of Januaty, (1687.)"— 
FountainhalPs Decisions, vol. 1. p. 439.* 

The facetious qualities of the ape soon rendered him 
an acceptable addition to the strolling band of the jon- 
gleur, Ben Jonson, in his splenetic introduction to the 
comedy of " Bartholomew Fair," is at pains to inform 
the audience that " he has ne'er a sword and buckler- 
man in his fair, nor a juggler, with a well educated ape 
to come over the chaine for the king of England, and 
back again for the prince, and sit still on his haunches 
for the pope and the king of Spaine." 

Note III. 

That stirring air which peals on high, 

O'er Dermid'srace our victory, — 

Strike it. Stanza xiv. hne 9. 

There are several instances, at least in tradition, of 
persons so much attached to particular tunes, as to require 
to hear them on their death-bed. Such an anecilote 
is mentioned by the late Mr. Riddle, of Gleniiddle, 

* Though less to my purpose, I cannot help noticing 
a circumstance respecting another of this Mr. Reid's 
attendants, which occurred during James II. 's zeal for 
catholic proselytism, and is told by Fountainhall, with 
dry Scottish irony. '■^January }7th, 1687— Reid, the 
mountebank, is received into the popish church, and 
one of his blackamores was persuaded to accept of 
baptism from the popish priests, and to turn christian 
papist ; which was a great trophy : he was called James, 
after the king and chancellor, nnd the apostle James."— 
Zbid. p. 440, 



NOTEa TO CANTO SIXTH. 229 

in hig collection of Border tunes, respecting an air 
called the " Dandling of the Bairns," for which a cer- 
tain Gallovidiaii laird is said to have evinced thi3 strong 
m;irk of paiiialily. It is popularly told of a famous 
freebooter, that he composed the tune known by the 
name of Macpherson's Rant while under sentence of 
death, and played it at the gallows-tree. Some spirited 
words hava been adapted to it by Burns. A similar 
story is recounted of a Welch bard, who composed and 
played on his death-bed the air called JJafyddy Oaregg 
Wen. 

But the mostcuiious example is given by Brantome, 
of a maid of honour at the court of France, entitled. 
Mademoiselle de Limeuil. '• Duraut samaladie, dont 
elle trespassa, jamais elle ne cessa, aiiis caus:itoH?jours ; 
car elle estoit fort grande parleuse, brocardeuse, et 
tres-bien et fori a propos, et tes-belle aveccela. Quand 
I'heure de safin fut venue, elle fit venir a soy son valet, 
(ainsi que le filles de la cour en ont chacune un) qui 
s'appelloit Julien, et scavoit tres-bien jouer du violen. 
' Julien, luydil elle. prenezvostre violon et sonnez raoy 
tousjours jusquesa ce que me voyez morie (car je m'y 
envais,) la delaite des tSuisses, et le mieux que voua 
pourrez, et quand vous serez sur le mot : ' Tout eit 
perdu,' sonnez le par quatre ou cing fois, le plus pi 
tusement que vous ponriez;' ce qui fit I'autre, et elle- 
mesme luy ai doit de la voix, et quand ce vint' tout est 
perdu,' elle le reitera par deux fois ; et se tournant de 
I'autre coste du chevet, elle dit ases compagnes : ' Tout 
est perdu a ce coup, et a bon e.«cient ;' et ainsi deceda. 
Voila une morte joyeuse et plaisante. Je tiens ce conte 
de deux de des compagnes, dignes de foi, qui virent 
jouer ce mysiere." — CEuvres deBrantome, III. 507, 

The tune to which this fair lady chose to make her 
final exit was composed on the defeat of the Swiss at 
Alarignano. The burtiien is quoted by Panuige, in 
Rabelais; and consists of these words, imitating the 
jargon of the Swiss, which is a mixture of French and 
German. 

Tout est verlore 
La T Intel ore 
Tout est verlore, bi Got I 

Note IV. 
Battle of BeaV an Duine. Stanza xv. line 1. 
A skirmish actually took place at a pass thus call^'', 
in the Trosachs, and closed with the jemarkable inci- 
dent mentioned in the text. It was greatly posterior in 
date to the reign of Jamea V. 



S3© NOTES TO CANTO SIXTH. 

" In this roughly-wooded island,* the country people 
secreted their wives and children, and their most 
valuable effects, from the rapacity of Cromwell's soldiers, 
dui ing their inroad into this country, in the time of the 
republic. 

These invaders, not venturing to ascend by Ihe lad 
ders, along the side of the lake, took a more circuitous 
road, through the heart of the Trosachs, ihe most fre- 
quented path at that time, which penetrates the 
wilderness about half way berween Binenn and the 
lake, by a tract called Yea chailleach, or the Old Wife's 
Bog. 

" In one of the defiles of this by-road, the men of the 
country at that time hung upon the rear of the invading 
enemy, and shot one of ('roinwell's men, whos-e grave 
marks the scene of action, aiid gives nr.meto that pass.* 
In revenge of this insult, the soldiers resolved to 
plunder the island, to violate ihe women, and put the 
children to death. With this brutal intention, one of 
the party, more expert than the rest, swam towards the 
island, te fetch the boat to his comrades, which had 
carried 'he women to their asylum, and lay moored in 
one of the creeks. His companions stood on the shore 
of the main land, in full view of all that was to pass, 
waiting anxiously for his return with the boat. But, 
just as the swimmer had got to the nearest point of the 
island, and was laying hold of a black rock, lo get on 
.shore, a heroine, who stood on the very point where he 
meani to land, hastily snatching a dagger from below 
her apron, with one stroke severed his head from the 
body. His party seeing this disaster, and relinquishing 
all future hope of revenge or conquest, made the best of 
their way out of their perilous situation. This ama- 
zon's great grand.'-ou lives at Bridge of Turk, who be- 
sides others attests the anecdote.''— SA-cicA of the Scene- 
ry near (-allandei-. Stirling, 1606j p. 20. I have only 
to add to this account, that the heroine's name was 
Helen Stuart. 

Note V. 

^nd Snowdoun^s knight is Scotland's king. — 
This discovery will probably remind the reader of the 
beautiful Arabian \a\e oi II Bondocani. Yet the inci- 
dent is not borrowed from that elegant story, but from 
Scottish tradition. James V. of whom we are treating, 
was a monarch whose good and bevevolent intentions 

* That at the eastern extremity of Loth Karrine, so 
often mentioned in the text 



NOTES TO CANTO SIXTH. 231 

often rendered his romantic freaks venial, if not respec- 
table, since, from his anxious attention to the interests 
of the lower and most oppressed class of his subjects, he 
was, as we have seen, popularly termed the King of 
the Commons. For the purpose of seeing that justice 
was regularly administered, and frequently from the 
less justifiable motive of gallantry, he used to traverse 
the vicinage of his several palaces in various disguises. 
The two comic songs entitled " The Gamberlunzie 
man," and " We'll gae nae mair a roving" are said to 
have been founded upon the success of his amorous 
adventures when travelling in the disguise of a beggar. 
The latter is perhaps the best comic ballad in any lan- 
guage. 

Another adventure, which had nearly cost James his 
life, is siidto have taken place at the village of Cram- 
mond, near Edinburgh, where he had rendered his ad- 
dresses acceptable to a pretty girl of the lower rank. 
Four or five persons whether relations or lovers of his 
mistress is uncertain, beset the disguised monarch, ns 
he returned from his rendezvous. Naturally gallant, 
and an admirable master of his weapon, the king took 
post on the high and narrow bridge over the Almond 
river, and defended himself bravely with his sword. A 
peasant who was threshing in a neighbouring barn came 
out upon the noise, and, whether moved by compassioa 
or by natural gallantry, took the weaker side, and laid 
about with his flail so effectually, as to disperse the as- 
sailants, well threshed, even according to the letter. He 
then conducted the king into his barn, where his guest 
reque-sted a basin and towel, ta remove the stains of the 
broil. This being procured with difficulty, James em- 
ployed himself in learning what was the summit of his 
deliverer's earthly wishes, and found that they were 
bounded by the desire of possessing, in property, the 
farm of Braehead upon which he laboured as a bonds- 
man. The lands chanced to belong to the crown ; and 
James directed him to come to the palace of Holy Rood, 
and inquire for the Guid-man (i. e. farmer) of Ballan- 
giech, a name by which he was known in his excur- 
sions, and which answered to Jl Bondocani of Haroun 
Alraschid. He presented himself accordingly, and 
found, with due astonishment, that he had saved his 
monarch's life, and that he was to be gratified with a 
crown-charter of the lands of Braehead, under the ser- 
vice of presenting an ewer, basin, and towel, for the 
king to wash his hands, when he shall happen to pass 
the Bridge of Crammond. This person was ancestor of 

* Beallach an duine. 



23-2 NOTES TO CANTO SIXTH. 

the Ilovvisonsof Braehead, in Mid Lotliian, a respect- 
able family, wlio coniinne to Iiold the lands (now passed 
into the Jemale line) under the same tenure. 

An.ither of James's frolics is thus narrated by Mr. 
Campbell from the Statistical Account. "Being once 
benighted when out a huntin;^, and separated from his 
attendants, he Irjppened to enter a cottage, in tlie midst 
of a moor, at the foot of the Ochil hills near Alloa, 
where, unknown, he was kindly received. In order to 
regale their une.\p."cted guest, the glide man (i. e. land- 
lord, farmer,) des;red the gude-iEife to fetch the lien 
that roosted nearest the cock, which is always the 
pkunpest, for the strangers supper. The king, liiglily 
pleased whh his nighi's lodging and hospitable enter- 
t lininent, told mine host at parting, that lie should be 
glad to retuiu his civility, and requeited thai the fii-sc 
lime he came to Stirling he would call at the castle, and 
inquire fi>r \h& gude-man of Ballingiech. Donaldson, 
the landlord, did not fail to call on Ihe giide-man of 
Ballingeich, when his astonishment at finding that llie 
king had been guest, allorded no small amusement to 
the merry monarch and his courtiers ; and to carry on 
the plersaatry, he was thenceforth designated by 
J.imes wi!h the title of King of the Moors, which name 
and designation have descended from lather to son 
ever since, and they have continued in possession of the 
identical spot, the property of Mr. Eiskine of Mar, till 
very lately, when this gentleman, with reluctance, 
turned out the descendant and representative of the 
King of the Moors, on account of his majesty's invin- 
cible indolence and great dislike to reform or innovation 
of any kind, although, from the spirited example of his 
neighbour tenants on the same estate, he is convinced 
similar exertion would promote his advantage." 

The author requests permission yet further to verify 
the subject of his poem, by an extract from the genea- 
logical work of Buchanuan ojT Auchmar, upon Scottish 
surmmes. 

" This John Buchannan of Auchmar and Arnpryor 
■was afterward termed King of Kippen,"* upon tl>e 
following account. King James V. a very sociable, 
debonair prince, residing at Stirling, in Buchanan of 
Arnpryor's time, carriers were very frequently passing 
along the common road, being near Arnpryor's huuse, 
with necessaries for the use of the King's family, and 
he having some extraordinary occasion, ordered one of 
these carriers to leave his load at his house, and he 

* A small district of land in Perthshire. 



NOTES TO CANTO SIXTH 233 

would pay him for it ; which the carrier refused to do, 
telling him he was the kins^'s carrier, and his load for 
his majesty's use ; to which Arnpryor seemed to have 
small resiard, compellinsthe carrier iniheeiid, to leave 
his load, tellina him, if Kin;^ James was kin? of Scotland, 
he was king of Kippen, so that it v.'as reasonab'ehe should 
share with his neishi)0iirin!» king in some of these loads, 
so frequently carried that road. The carrier represen- 
ting this Usage, and telling the story, as Arnpryor spoke 
it, to some of the kin:i'3 servants, it came at length to 
his majesty's ears, wlio, shoitly ihereafier, with a few 
attendants, came to visit iris neighbour king, who was 
in the mean time at dinner. King James having sent a 
servant to demand access, was •ienied the same by a 
tall fellow with a battle axe, who stood potter at the 
gate, tellinsi, tliere couM be no access till dinner was 
over. This answer not satisfying the king, he sent to 
demand access a second time; upon which he wag 
desired by the porter to desist, othevwi>e he would find 
cause to repent his rudeness. His majesty finding this 
method would not do, desired the poiter to tell his mas- 
ter that the good man of Ballengeich desired to speak 
with the King of Kippen. The porter telling Arnpryor 
so much, he, in all humble manner came and received 
the king, and having enleitained him with much sump- 
tuousness and jollity, became so agreeable to King James, 
that he allowed him to take so much of any provision 
he found carryingthat road as he had occasion for ; and, 
seeing he made the first visit, desired Arnpryor in a few 
days to return him a second at Stirling, vvhicii he per- 
formed, and continued in very much "favour with the 
king always thereafter being termed King of Kippen 
while he lived." — Buchanan's Essay vpon the Fami- 
ly of Buchanaji. Edin. 1775,8vo. p.74. 

The readers of Ariosto must give credit for the amia- 
ble feitures with which he Is represented, since he is 
generally considered as the prototype of Zerbino, tlie 
most interesting hero of the Orlando' Furioso. 

Note VI. , 

Stirling's tower. 

Of yore, the name of Snowdoiui claims. St. xxviii. 
line 26. 

William of Worcester, who wrote iibout the middle 
of the fit'ttemh century, calls Stirling castle fc^nowdi 'Un. 
Sir David Lindsay bes.tows the same cpitht-l u[on it m 
his Complaint of llic Papingo. 



234 NOTES TO CANTO SITXH. 

Adieu, fair Snowdonn, with thy towers higli, 
Thy chaple royal, parli, and table round ; 
May, June, and July would I dwell in thee, 
"Were I a man, to hear the bardis sound, 
Whillt doth agane thy royal rock rebound. 
Mr. Chamlers, in hia late excellent edition of Sir 
David Lindsay's works, has refuted the chimerical 
derivation of Snawdoun (oxsnedding or cutting. It was 
probably derived from the romantic legend which con- 
nected Stirling with King Arthur, to which the mention 
of the Round Table gives countenance. The ring with, 
in which justs were formerly practised, in the castle 
park, is still called the Roufid Table. Snawdoun is the 
official title of one of the Scottish heralds, whose epi- 
thet seems in all countries to have been fantastically 
adopted from ancient history or romance. 

It appears from the preceding note, that the real name 
by which James was actually distinguished in his pri- 
Tate excursions, was the goodman of IJallangiech •, de- 
rived from a steep pass leading to the castle of Stirling, 
so called. But the epithet would not have suited poetry, 
and would besides at once, and prematurely, have an- 
nounced the plot to^any of my countrymen, amoiig 
whom the traditional stories above mentioned are still 
current. 



The author has to apologize for the inadvertent ap- 
propriation of a whole line from s be tragedy of Douglas: 

" I hold the flrsl ^ ■ ^iikes, my foe." 



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